An Evening in Imladris
by RosieHal
Summary: Glorfindel has kidnapped the High Princess! Kinda. And it's up to Erestor to get her back. Maybe. Regardless, a stray pack of orcs and two angry elf lords -one armed with a rolling pin- will certainly create a memorable evening in Imladris.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: **Hello all! I wrote this after I started to get burned out with my story _The Princess and the Little Bird. _Some of the characters and situations are similar, so if you like what I wrote here, you can get a little more backstory by reading my other one, but it's not necessary. Enjoy!

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**An Evening in Imladris**

**Chapter 1**

The sun was beginning to set over the valley of Imladris as Glorfindel reclined on his private balcony, feeling relaxed and warmed by the sun. An empty bottle of Nandorin wine and half-filled glass sat on the table beside him, which he had pilfered from the kitchens earlier that day. He hummed a tune as the evening bells chimed, but chose not to rise and start dressing himself for supper. Instead, he waited.

Glorfindel's rooms not only had a splendid view of the valley, but also of the open corridor that led from the main house to the wing that contained the private rooms of Lord Elrond's closest kindred. He counted the minutes as he lounged, with his feet propped up on the railing and hands behind his head, until at last he saw a shapely form in blue and silver walk down the corridor.

Ereiniel's outer robe billowed about her as she hurried down the hall, unpinning her white braids and shaking them loose. The beadwork on her silver gown made it appear as though she was glimmering in the dying light, and even from such a distance, she could take his breath away.

"Lady Ereiniel!" Glorfindel called as he abruptly stood and waved at her. Ereiniel halted and looked up at him.

"Lord Glorfindel?" she replied with a smile, one which made his heart quicken its tempo.

"My lady, I fear I am in need of your assistance, might I request a moment of your time?"

Ereiniel raised a brow, quite skeptical of Glorfindel and his dubious grin. He leaned over the railing, looking like a schoolboy that had just thought of a new way to prank the teacher. What he had on his mind she could not say. Glorfindel was hard to predict.

"Only a moment?" she asked, but he shrugged.

"That will all depend on you, milady."

Intrigued, Ereiniel decided to see what Glorfindel wanted before she changed for dinner. It would not matter if she was a few minutes late, she was the High Princess of the Noldor, and figured her title permitted such allowances. Elrond would get over it.

She ascended the stairwell that led into Elrond's private wing and smoothed her hair before she pushed open Glorfindel's door. His bright room was tidy overall, but the places he spent most of his time were quite disheveled.

His bow, quiver, and sword had been carelessly tossed onto a table beside the door, his bed was unmade, and stacks upon stacks of reports, maps, and letters covered every inch of his desk. She was certain if one more piece of paper was to be placed upon it, the desk would collapse.

She picked up a discarded cloak on the floor and placed it over a chair as she crossed the expansive room to Glorfindel's balcony. The golden elf had seated himself once again, but he had angled his chair so he could see her walk through his room. His feet were propped up on the railing again.

"And what did you need my assistance with?" Ereiniel said as she folded her arms and leaned against a column that supported the arched doorway.

"I simply required your presence so as to alleviate my lack companionship at the moment," Glorfindel replied, bringing his glass to his lips and downed the remaining contents. "I thank you kindly."

Ereiniel snorted but couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped her throat. "Is that all?"

"I was about to inquire about the happenings of your day, but I can already see that it has been tirelessly long," Glorfindel said, resting his chin in his hand. He could see the skin under her eyes was puffy and her shoulders slumped beneath her ocean blue robe. "Matters of state are quite draining, are they not?"

"Draining is not the word I would use to describe it," Ereiniel said as she pushed herself from the column to move closer to the railing. "I barely said anything during the whole exchange, but my head still aches from the incessant babble."

Glorfindel's balcony was shaded and partially obscured by a tree that grew beside it, and she inhaled the scent of greenery as she stared at the babbling brook below. She had spent many a night sitting with Glorfindel here, watching the lulling waters and simply enjoying the tranquility of the valley. She had found Glorfindel's balcony and the rolling sound of the sea were all that soothed her troubled mind.

"While I am sure that we could sit here all night and create a list of adjectives that could adequately describe how miserable political affairs are, I do believe we can come up with a better way to spend the evening."

"Elrond is expecting me to join him for dinner in half an hour, apparently he believes he still needs my presence to help soothe the concerns of Tharbad's representatives," she said, resting her elbows on the railing. "Though if I were to be completely honest, I believe that as the King's Lord Marshal, who is closely allied with the Númenoreans that are destroying their forests, my presence is only agitating them."

"Well, that settles it!" Glorfindel said, jumping from his seat. "If that is how you truly feel then let us abscond from this place at once!"

"Elrond will likely send an armed search party to bring me back," Ereiniel said without humor.

"Whom could Lord Elrond possibly send that would be able to overcome a Balrog slayer and the Lord Marshal?" Glorfindel inquired with a raised brow. Ereiniel stared blankly at him for several long moments before casting her gaze back down to the waters below.

"You know you want to," Glorfindel said, holding out his hand. Though he knew he didn't have to, he threw in a charming smile to tempt her further.

Ereiniel let out a long sigh and cast off her outer robe, dropping it into Glorfindel's chair. "Fine, let's go. You had best have a good plan of escape though, I don't want to be back here before dawn."

"With me as your guard Meldanya, no one shall return you to Lord Elrond unless you desire it so," he said with an exaggerated bow. "You have my word."

"And I shall hold you to it," she said as she tied back her hair and kicked off her heeled shoes. "Come, Lord Glorfindel, I shall now permit you to abduct me this evening."

"Oh! Please! Don't tell me that!" he said as he swept her up in his arms with a rakish grin. "For if I am permitted to steal you away, then I shall be sorely tempted to never return you!"

Ereiniel giggled as he carried her from the room, leaving the door open behind them. Glorfindel returned a moment later, Ereiniel still in his arms, and she grabbed his sword off the table. They both thought at the last minute that it was best if they took it with them.

One just never knew what could happen, even within the safety of the valley.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Elrond sighed and tapped his temple as he observed his household and guests happily feasting in the great hall. Despite the flawless presentation of cutlery, the abundant food and wine, and the singing minstrels that injected gaiety into the already pleasant atmosphere, the Lord of Rivendell was in an ominous mood.

He glared at the two vacant chairs beside him, having been reserved for the noblest lord and lady within his house, and knew something was amiss. Ereiniel had promised to be ready in time for the feast, but already three-quarters of the hour had passed, which Elrond interpreted as her sudden refusal to join them. Moreover, no one had been able to account for Glorfindel's whereabouts all day.

No doubt the two of them had conspired to spend their evening elsewhere. While Elrond wasn't too upset over the fact that the High Princess of the Noldor and the Lord of the House of the Golden Flower were absent, and therefore unable to help console the people from Tharbad that their settlements weren't in any danger from the Númenoreans —for Erestor's fine way with words and a newly drawn border had seemingly accomplished the task— there was something else that greatly disturbed him.

Since his early youth, he had grown up within the household of King Gil-galad and his family. He had been present the day Ereiniel was born, and loved her as the little sister he never had. The fact that she was likely out cajoling with her not-so-secret lover made the defensive, big brother beast within him roar to life.

However, it would have been unseemly for the Lord of Imladris to suddenly stand, shove the laden table before him out of the way, then call for every soldier, guard, and scout to search every corner of the valley for the princess. Instead, Elrond used his infamous wisdom to think of a better course of action.

After a few moments he motioned for a serving maid to come close and whispered something in her ear. She nodded, and immediately crossed the expansive room to deliver her missive to an unexpecting elf seated amongst his other advisors and men of Tharbad.

Erestor rose like a silken shadow and excused himself from the company with a slight incline of his head. He glided across the floor as he came to stand beside Elrond, then folded his bejeweled hands before him and gave a polite nod.

"Lord Elrond," he said, with a hint of sarcasm in his voice.

Erestor clearly hadn't gotten over the fact that his long-time friend was now ruling a realm of his own. Sometimes Elrond got the distinct impression that Erestor found the whole thing amusing. For now, however, he focused on the situation at hand.

"I need you to find Ereiniel for me," Elrond said.

"Oh?" Erestor said, raising a dark brow. "Why do you not simply ask Lord Glorfindel where the princess is? He often knows of her location at any given moment— oh, now I see. Lord Glorfindel is also absent. My eyesight must be getting poor of late. This does present a problem, does it not?"

Elrond glowered at Erestor's intentional provocation, but the dark elf ignored him. Erestor knew that Elrond needed him and had taken the liberty to goad him. Situations as this afforded such allowances, besides, it had been far too long since he had been able to do so.

"Just find them and convince Ereiniel to come back," Elrond said. "You're the only one who can, and we both know it."

"Now what am I to receive in return?" Erestor said, crossing his arms.

Elrond frowned. Erestor had done the king's work many times without a request for payment —though Gil-galad was generous and always rewarded those who completed assigned tasks— which meant there was something in particular that Erestor wanted.

"I know what you want, and I will give it to you after Ereiniel is returned," Elrond said.

"And the balrog slayer?" Erestor questioned, his eyes alighting at the possibilities.

"Though he is not my favorite elf at the moment, no doubt we require his assistance in maintaining the safety of Imladris. If need be, don't harm him beyond what I am capable of healing," Elrond said.

"So, a black eye is all I am permitted to bring him back with?" Erestor replied, clucking his tongue. "Pity."

"Will you just go already?" Elrond snapped.

Erestor smirked as he bowed, then swept from the hall to begin his search. The Lord of Imladris leaned back in his seat and chuckled to himself, his mood having improved from Erestor's sarcastic wit. He drank his wine then motioned for the serving girl to refill his glass, humming along with the tune the minstrels played.

He need only wait now.

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**A/N:** Please Review and tell me what you think! I love feedback!


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3**

"You truly have thought of everything," Ereiniel said as Asfaloth appeared around the kitchen gate, saddled and harnessed, after Glorfindel had whistled for him. They had already stopped by the kitchens to retrieve a picnic basket Glorfindel had put together earlier in the day, which Ereiniel held.

"How long have you been planning this?"

"Since I saw how utterly distraught you were this morning at breakfast," Glorfindel replied as he swung himself up into the saddle. "I may not have been able to save you from a day of stressful hearings, but I can make your night far more enjoyable."

Ereiniel grinned as Glorfindel held out his hand and helped her mount the horse with the heavy basket. She sat before him, the basket in her lap, and he was quite content to ride with his arms around her.

"What in all of creation did you put in here?" Ereiniel asked as she popped open the top to peer inside.

"A bit of everything actually," Glorfindel admitted as he urged Asfaloth into a brisk canter. "The cooks were preparing the feast when I came down and everything smelled so good."

Ereiniel laughed as Glorfindel guided Asfaloth away from Imladris and down the winding pathways that led deeper into the valley. The trees obscured the night sky above, but the light of a million fireflies lit their path towards a flowering woodland meadow.

A sea of bluebells surrounded them as Glorfindel reigned his horse and dismounted, taking the basket from Ereiniel so she could slide down from the saddle. He pulled a blanket from one of the saddlebags and tossed it over his shoulder as she stepped away to behold the beauty around them.

"I know you prefer to be beside the sea, but I thought you would enjoy this place," Glorfindel said.

"It's wonderful," she smiled as she cupped her hands to capture a firefly. "Everything you have done is wonderful."

The firefly flew from her hands, and she turned to him and smiled. Standing in the starlight, looking so soft and refined with her pale hair tumbling over her shoulder, Ereiniel was the most beautiful thing in the valley to him. Glorfindel felt his heart skip a beat.

"Tis only a token of my affection," he said as he put the basket down then spread the blanket on the ground.

"One which I greatly appreciate," Ereiniel said, kneeling and helping him smooth it out. "I would prefer this over a chest of mithril and diamonds!"

"I agree mithril and diamonds are a poor substitution for cheese pasties, wine, and blueberry tarts," he affirmed as he set their basket down on the blanket.

Yet it was not just the aforementioned delights that Glorfindel sat before them. He had also procured an herb encrusted partridge, a loaf of rosemary bread, butter, cheese, and an assortment of fruit and roasted vegetables.

"How did you manage to fit all of that in there?" Ereiniel asked as he at last withdrew their cutlery and began to make her plate, being generous with the portions.

"It took a few tries," Glorfindel said as he handed her the plate then opened the bottle of wine. "But I am quite certain stubbornness and determination had much to do with it."

Ereiniel took the glass he offered her and took a long sip from it. The taste of blackberries, figs, and a hint of plum rolled over her tongue before she swallowed, and didn't realize how much she needed a drink until she had drained her glass. Glorfindel immediately refilled it.

"Thank you," she said. "For everything you've done, I have no idea how you always seem to know just what I need."

"Though you are of the highest status and possess numerable talents milady, you are not difficult to understand," he said, waving a butter knife.

"Is that so?" she said, taking a bite of bread. "Should I be offended by this?"

"In your case, never. It makes you that much more approachable, for you prefer simplicity, and think more highly of thoughtfulness and consideration than elaborate displays of wealth," Glorfindel replied.

"And how did you come to discover this about me?" Ereiniel asked, intrigued.

"Why, because you came here with me for starters," he said with a smile. "You knew that Elrond's dining hall would be filled with all the fineries and extravagances only a ruling lord could provide, but you knew that by running off with me I could only provide you with something like this." Glorfindel gave a sweeping motion with his hand. "Not to mention you just said you would prefer this over mithril and diamonds."

"Perhaps it is due to the Shipwright's influence," Ereiniel consented with an amused grin. "Círdan was never one who thought much of riches or treasure."

"He is contented with building ships as you are making dresses," Glorfindel said. "While I do believe he is one of the least amiable people I have ever encountered, I do appreciate that he taught your father to value family and love. An obsessive love of jewels can only lead to senseless violence."

"I do not think it was all Círdan's doing," Ereiniel said. "Ada barely remembers a time when he had a proper family and always wanted one, more than anything. It's why he is so protective of us."

"I figured that out when he kept posting guards outside your doors to drive me away," he said, taking a sip of wine.

Ereiniel recalled those early days shortly after Glorfindel washed ashore in Lindon. There was an instant attraction between their fëar, and the golden Vanya was overly flirtatious and vigorously courted her, much to Gil-galad's displeasure. In the king's mind there was no elf in Aman or Arda who was worthy of his only child, and did his best to dissuade Glorfindel.

Ereiniel recalled one such occurrence when she was sitting in her study, listening to the spring storm that raged outside, when Glorfindel unexpectedly burst through her balcony doors. He was panting, drenched from the heavy downpour, with rips in his tunic and bloody scratches on his skin from the thorny roses that grew along the cliffside. In his hand was a dozen lilacs.

He later told her he had been on a stroll through the gardens when he spotted the lilacs, and thought she might like to have them. Upon trying to deliver them, however, he found every corridor blocked by guards who dissuaded entry to the princess' study. The explanation given was that hobgoblins had infiltrated the palace and were hiding somewhere within the walls. Undeterred, Glorfindel had simply decided to scale the three story cliffside to deliver the lilacs to her through her window.

It was only after Sauron had been driven from Eregion, and upon seeing Glorfindel's tender care of her after she received a grievous wound to her arm, the king conceded. Somewhat. Gil-galad had yet to relent his icy regard of the balrog slayer, and all but pushed him onto Elrond and out of Lindon.

"Regardless, I am grateful that you never wavered in your devotion, even now I appreciate you more than words can convey," Ereiniel said. "I don't know how I will ever be able to repay you."

"One day Meldanya, when this war is done and my task is completed, I will gladly consider your debt paid when you return with me to Aman as my wife," Glorfindel said with a softened expression as he took her hand in his.

His thumb brushed over the golden, vine-like ring on her middle finger, one which had —by some miracle— survived Gondolin's downfall and found its way back to him. It was fitting to him that she wore it as a token of his fealty to her, because if the ring could find its way back to him after an age, then its wearer could too. He took comfort in knowing that it didn't matter if distance, war, or death should part them, they could always be returned to each other.

Ereiniel suddenly tugged on his hand and pulled him closer to her, and pressed her lips against his. Glorfindel readily returned her kiss and threaded his slender fingers through her hair.

"When that day comes," she said after they broke their kiss, "I shall gladly pay it."

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**A/N: **Thank you to those who have reviewed and favored this story so far! I'm very glad that you're enjoying it! Please let me know what you think, I greatly appreciate your feedback!


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4**

Erestor began his search in Princess Ereiniel's rooms. It was a polite search however, to pick through the personal belongings of the High Princess was both bad-mannered and unnecessary. He merely glanced over the tidy receiving room before treading into the more haphazard living quarters.

A half-finished gown of pale lavender adorned a bust form in a corner, with implements and bits of lace surrounding it. Her dressing table was covered with scattered pins and jewelry, and dresses, formal robes, cloaks, and shoes were strewn about the entire room. Evidently the Ereiniel had an exceptionally difficult time deciding what to wear that morning.

However, he could find no clue as to where she might be. It didn't appear as though she had returned that evening, and her weapons were neatly arranged on a side table by her door with her favorite cloak. Casting his gaze over the correspondence on her desk, he could see no missive that bore Glorfindel's distinctive scrawl, and decided to vacate the room.

However, once he walked down the corridor and found Glorfindel's door opened, Erestor's curiosity was piqued. He walked right in and found the same type of localized disarray. His eyes gleaming like a cat's in the dark, Erestor moved forward through the rooms, finding no trace of the elf lord.

His balcony, however, was an altogether different matter. Draped over one of the two chairs was Ereiniel's silken robe. He recognized it as the one she had been wearing earlier that day, and saw her shoes discarded under the table. Erestor lifted the empty bottle of wine with pale fingers, read the label, then set it back down.

With a rustle of silk Erestor withdrew, feeling as though he had a lead. The wine upon Glorfindel's desk had been imported earlier that day, which meant he had recently been down in the kitchens. The dark-clad elf glided down the maze of corridors and stairways into the recesses of the kitchens.

There were still plenty of elves racing to and fro, preparing platters to be delivered to the feasting guests upstairs. Erestor surveyed the massive room bordering a well-tended garden before his gaze fell upon a slight elf dictating commands to the staff. He slid between elf, hot stove, oven, and worktable to stand behind Lindir.

Erestor was mildly impressed by Lindir's gusto as he directed servers and cooks, and critiqued or praised the dishes that passed under his nose before he allowed them to proceed to the dining hall. He was a polished captain in command of an army devoted to hospitality.

"My Lord Lindir," Erestor purred, making the smaller elf jump.

"Ilúvatar Erestor!" Lindir startled, dropping the sheaf of papers in his hands. "Must you always sneak up on people?"

The corner of Erestor's mouth twitched upward in response, but he chose to instead focus on his task rather than admit his favored pastime.

"Pardon my intrusion, but have you by chance seen Lord Glorfindel?" he asked as Lindir bent to gather his meticulously crafted lists and seating charts.

"Glorfindel? No, not since this afternoon," Lindir replied upon straightening. "I had to chase him out of here because he kept pilfering the food meant for this evening's banquet."

"Did he say what he was going to do with it?" Erestor's brow rose, finding this sliver of information quite illuminating.

"No," Lindir said as he reordered his papers, shuffling them hastily as a server shouted from the stairs, asking which wine was to be paired with the berry truffles. "He had a basket with him, so I assumed he had chosen to sample the food before this evening. He's done it before."

"Or, could it be he was planning on absconding with it," Erestor said to himself while Lindir replied to the question about the truffle wine. "Glorfindel has always been a romantic dolt."

"I am sorry Lord Erestor, but I must get back to—no! The blueberry tarts are supposed to be presented with the lemon cakes! Not the blackberry pies!"

"Yes, I can see you are quite busy, please excuse me for distracting you," Erestor said with a slight incline of his head before he swept from the kitchens, leaving Lindir to his task.

The stables were the next location Erestor searched, and was not surprised to find Asfaloth missing from his stall. Ereiniel's noble white and grey stallion remained though, which meant they had ridden together. Erestor almost chuckled, for it was quite an easy task to track a horse carrying two elves and a picnic basket. Glorfindel may have thought of the perfect romantic getaway evening with the High Princess, but he neglected to cover his tracks.

Erestor quickly saddled and harnessed his own grey and black horse before leading it from the stables. He quickly found Asfaloth's distinctive tread and mounted his horse, encouraging it to follow the famed stallion's path.

Finding them had been among the easiest tasks Erestor had ever undertaken. He need only determine which method he would he would use to convince the princess to return to Imladris now.

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**A/N: **Thank you to all who have reviewed this, I am very glad to hear that you are enjoying this story (especially Glorfindel and Ereiniel) I am so appreciative of your feedback! Please continue letting me know what you think, thank you!


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5**

Though Globuk liked to think of himself as an up and coming warlord, one whose genius would finally allow the Dark One to gain the upper hand against their enemies, he was, in fact, a stupid loudmouth.

Pushdug rolled his eyes as Globuk complained about the captain getting the best of him, that he would have been able to kill him had it not been for the slippery terrain underfoot. Pushdug didn't even remember seeing Globuk attack the captain when the mutinous brawl in their company began. Most likely some brute got the best of him and he had turned tail and ran like the rest of them.

He remembered sitting by a fire with the other spindly orcs relegated as cooks, healers, and smiths, when he heard the roar of an attacking uruk. Pushdug looked up to see the captain narrowly avoid getting his head cleaved in two by an axe when the rest of the company jumped up to join in the fight.

Torn limbs, blood, and intestines went flying over their heads before Pushdug and the other smaller orcs fled into the forest. Runts like them often didn't survive such free for all slaughter, but now they would be unable to return to their company. Had they gone back after the slaughter stopped, they would have been labeled as cowards and executed.

Personally, Pushdug thought that it wasn't the aspect of cowardice they hated, they just used it as an excuse to kill something. Not that Pushdug could blame them, he felt the need to extinguish any and all life as much as the next orc. However, he had never felt it so much as he did then, having to listen to Globuk's incessant babble.

He gripped his scimitar as their group of a dozen orcs traversed through the forest, carefully assessing the hulking Globuk as he licked his wounds. Though he was taller and stronger, he seemed completely at ease amongst them. Perhaps he thought they were no threat to him, since he was the only warrior bred orc in the group.

"Would have had 'im I would, he was down on the ground, sniveling like the snaga he was, then I got this crick in me shoulder," Globuk said, but the last bit of the story Pushdug tuned out.

He looked over at Ashuruk, a squat, clanking cook who returned his incensed glare. Pushdug could see he was fingering the large butcher's knife on his waist, clearly having the same thoughts as he. They both returned their gaze to the babbling Globuk, who led their little group deeper into the forest.

"Say, Globuk, where are we going?" Ashuruk said, his beady, unblinking eyes never leaving the orc's back.

"To find something to kill, dolt," Globuk replied. "I've been itching to sink my knife into something, and I don't care what it is!"

"Stick it in yourself then," Pushdug mumbled as his clawed hand unsnapped the scimitar from his waist. Ashuruk also quietly drew his weapon.

"Wait, you hear that?" Globuk suddenly halted, looking around the forest.

Pushdug, Ashuruk, and the rest of the group stopped and listened. Their oily, pointed ears strained in the darkness, and they observed nothing but green foliage and blooming flowers around them. Pushdug listened for the sounds of approaching footsteps or horse hooves, for he knew both men and elves lived at the base of the Misty Mountains.

"I don't hear nothing but birds," Ashuruk stated, his knife still clenched tight in his hand. "And what sounds like water."

"We ain't heard birds for weeks!" Globuk said, and Pushdug had to admit the big orc was right. Since Eregion and the surrounding areas were laid waste to years ago, there hadn't been many birds or fauna at all in the woods. "Where in the blazes are we?"

Pushdug and Ashuruk groaned as Globuk marched forward with a determined expression on his ugly face. He drew his senselessly large cleaver and searched the surrounding area, swiping at overgrown foliage and anything green that was in his path. The group followed him much more cautiously, huddled together like a pack of rats.

The smaller orcs looked to each other, unsure if they should attack Globuk now since his attention was clearly focused on their surroundings. However, they both had the feeling they had strayed far from their intended course, and the woods were likely filled with enemies. If they killed Globuk now, they wouldn't have a capable fighter amongst them. Stupid or not.

"There, hear that?" Globuk said, his ears perking up. "Sounds like, sounds like—"

Pushdug and Ashuruk heard it too. It was the sound of twinkling bells and the strumming of harp strings. The orcs cringed and shuddered in disgust, but Globuk started forwards, slashing at the wall of foliage before him.

When the last of the leaves fell away Globuk stopped. His mouth fell open, and his grip on the cleaver slackened as moonlight poured through the hole he made. The smaller orcs shuffled forward and peered around him, and their mouths fell open at the sight before them.

Gleaming in the starlight and moonlight, the hidden valley of Imladris lay before them. Somehow, someway, they had found the hidden sanctuary of the elves that the Dark One had been searching for.

The greasy black hairs on the back of Pushdug's neck stood on end as he and the other orcs suddenly drew back. Globuk alone remained standing, silently observing the view before him. He eventually took a step back, then another, and finally turned to stare at the pack of little orcs.

He drew himself to his full height, puffed out his chest, and stared down his nose at them. Pushdug thought for a moment that he was about to make some bold plan about scouting the terrain and delivering the news to the Dark One. Surely there would have been a great reward for the ones who were able to reveal the location of Imladris.

"Whelp lads, we are officially dead."

Pushdug and Ashuruk glanced at each other, but when they looked back Globuk was gone. The swaying branches of trees revealed his escape path and the little orcs couldn't help but follow him. For once, Pushdug thought Globuk made a smart move.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

When they had finished their supper and packed away their cutlery, Glorfindel and Ereiniel remained on the blanket. The golden elf lay on his back with his head in her lap while she wove a crown of flowers.

"I don't understand how one determines which wine is best paired with a particular food," Glorfindel said as he handed her another bluebell. "I know Lindir says that white wines are best served with fish and poultry, and red is better with meats and cheese, but I have been perfectly content with any wine with any food."

"I have never given it much thought myself," she replied. "I had always assumed it was just part of an elaborate course setting."

"Although I will say that I do prefer pear wine with my bread and cheese," he said, twirling one of the long-stemmed flowers as he thought.

"Seaberry, white grape, and blueberry are the only wines that grace our table back home," Ereiniel said as she finished her crown. "Though I drink whatever is available, I do prefer one of the three. I typically stick with the same type of wine through an entire meal."

"So I have noticed," Glorfindel said, reaching for the bottle that lay by his side. Much to his chagrin, it was empty. "Meh, pity."

"Did we drink it all?" she asked as he tossed the bottle aside.

"Unfortunately so Meldanya," he said, sitting up. "We still have many hours til dawn and I for one do not like dry evenings."

Ereiniel grinned as Glorfindel took the crown she made, placed it upon his head, then kissed her.

"I will go back to Imladris, procure more spirits for us, then return to you posthaste," he said.

"Bring me a blueberry one back please," she said. "I would greatly appreciate it."

"For you, anything," he said, giving her one last kiss before rising. He crossed over to Asfaloth, who grazed a short distance away, and mounted him. "I shall only be a short while," he said before galloping away.

Alone, Ereiniel fell back against the blanket and stared into the night sky. Without Glorfindel to keep her mind distracted, her thoughts swirled over the happenings of the day. Self-doubt was her ever constant companion when it came to diplomacy, for she was not as tactful or well-spoken as Elrond or her father. They always knew what to say and how to say it.

Though she represented Lindon as a third-party to ensure the realm supported the end compromise, she feared she spoke too much in favor of the Númenoreans. The wood needed for their ships would assist Lindon in ferrying supplies and troops to greater distances should Sauron arise again. Ereiniel had done her best to make them understand that it was for their safety that the trees were being cut down, and not because of any malicious intent towards them.

However, every time she spoke, the men of Tharbad would stare at her wide-eyed and stammer a response. Ereiniel was so convinced she terrified them that she didn't even bother to speak at all when a full-blown argument erupted between the two parties, one which even Elrond had difficulty stifling.

She took a deep breath and slowly released it, briefly closing her eyes to listen to the sounds of the valley around her. A light breeze rustled the trees and she could hear the songs of nightingales. Crickets chirped, an owl hooted, and silk ruffled in the grass beside her.

Ereiniel opened her eyes and sighed.

"I'm not surprised Elrond sent you," she said as she sat up. "You can tell him that I'll only be gone til morning, I won't return before then."

"Lord Elrond insists that you return at once, Princess Ereiniel," Erestor said as bowed politely. "He has given me strict orders."

"Has he now?" Ereiniel said as she stared at the elf in the ethereal field, who looked to her like a misplaced shadow. "I don't suppose I can make you a counteroffer?"

"Nay Lady, unfortunately Lord Elrond has promised something even you cannot give," Erestor said as he stepped forward. "Besides, your presence would no doubt be appreciated by those from Tharbad."

"Really now?" Ereiniel snorted and reached for the bottle of wine. Remembering it was empty, she set it back down with a huff. "What could my presence do but strike fear into their hearts?"

Erestor stopped beside her and raised a brow. "Strike fear, milady?"

"You saw them," she said, gesturing with her hand. "Every time I spoke, they would look at me it was as if I were about to toss them over the side of the waterfall."

"They do not fear you milady," Erestor said as he sat down beside her on the blanket. "Quite the contrary, they beheld you with reverence."

"How can you be so sure?" she asked, narrowing her gaze.

"Because, if they feared you, they would likely have requested a private hearing with Lord Elrond or myself and the Númenorean," Erestor stated. "One of your greatest faults is that you cannot adequately judge others' perceptions of you because you believe they are always comparing you to your forebearers."

"Celebrimbor once told me the same thing," Ereiniel said, looking off in the distance at nothing in particular. The mention of her beloved kinsman still made her heart hurt. "He complained that I didn't understand what kind of influence I had, that I always underestimated myself."

"While humility is an excellent quality to possess, you should not judge yourself so harshly all the time," Erestor said. "You believe that everyone highlights and dwells on your faults, but that is not the case. While it's true you are held to far greater standards than most, I can assure you many people think very highly of you."

"Glorfindel was right," she said with a woeful smile. "I am not difficult to understand."

"You should not plague yourself with unnecessary doubts, or constantly belittle yourself. I assure you, milady, that you are a worthy descendant of Fingolfin," he said. "You would not be called Ereiniel Thalarián if you were otherwise."

"Thank you for that, Erestor, but I fear your words are crashing on me like water on rock," she said. "Please do not take offense, I will confess to you that I have always felt this way, even as an elfling. I feel like I am never strong enough, wise enough, or kind enough."

"It is always difficult to see how others perceive you, I understand," Erestor said. "You believe people view you one way, but it is often the opposite. You may think they hear the uncertainty in your voice, see how you doubt your decisions, but they don't."

"So even the wise have their doubts as well?" Ereiniel asked with a raised brow.

"Just because someone is known as 'the wise' does not mean they have absolute certainty about everything," Erestor said. "I can assure you King Turgon and Lord Elrond have their doubts. As did Fingon and your father."

"You certainly have a way with convincing people to do what you want, don't you?" she said, only then understanding what Erestor was doing. "You think this heart-to-heart will make me want to go back with you."

If Erestor was ruffled by this revelation he didn't show it. True, he had intended to wear down her feelings of self-doubt and make her think that she would not only make herself feel better by returning to Imladris, but she would be doing him a favor as well. Ereiniel had always been eager to please and wanted everyone to like her, and exploiting a person's traits had always been one of Erestor's specialties. In reality Ereiniel stood no chance against Erestor's wit.

"The evening is growing late and the men of Tharbad will wish to retire soon," Erestor said, without admitting his intentions. "You may bid them goodnight and Elrond will be satisfied if you remained with him in the Hall of Fire in that short amount of time. When that is concluded you may return here with Glorfindel if you choose. I was bidden by Elrond to return you to Imladris, but I wasn't instructed to keep you there."

Ereiniel sighed, knowing she had been defeated long before she realized there was battle going on. "Let's go then, that way we can perhaps meet Glorfindel and tell him what we're doing. I don't want him to think I was stolen away from him."

"As you wish," Erestor rose and offered his hand to Ereiniel.

He helped her stand and directed her to where his horse stood silently waiting for them in the meadow. Ereiniel walked with Erestor, thinking about what he said in regard to the payment Elrond promised him. She grinned when she thought she figured it out.

"You know, Lindriel likes picnics too," she said, as if initiating a pleasant conversation about their mutual friend. Ereiniel too could make subtle suggestions and Erestor deserved the reprisal.

She almost laughed when she saw his back and shoulders stiffen, and wondered if his pale face had suddenly become a vivid shade of red. He cleared his throat and smoothed the dark robe over his shoulders before speaking to her over his shoulder.

"I don't know what you are insinuating, milady," he replied.

"I was making no insinuations," she said with an unconvincing, innocent smile. "I was simply stating that Lindriel likes picnics, and she does have a favorite spot on the northwest cliff near the lighthouse. She often paints there and should be no trouble to find. There's a picture of it above the fireplace in the children's corner of the library."

Though he knew very well the princess was planting the suggestion in his mind, he nonetheless filed it away for later use. Once he returned with Ereiniel, Elrond would send him to the High King's city of Aearellond as his representative. There was an upcoming summit regarding their defenses against Sauron, and he could use it as an excuse to converse with Lady Lindriel about prehearing tactics.

He now worried if his infatuation with the princess' long-time friend was obvious to everyone.

Just as he was about to assist her onto the horse, both he and Ereiniel turned to see a rugged form burst through the trees and run headlong towards them. The horse reared as a stocky orc came flying towards them, his exceedingly large cleaver in his hand.

Erestor moved to shield Ereiniel —an instinctive act to protect one's leader— but she stepped forward with her hand outstretched. A sudden blast of bright blue light nearly knocked Erestor over as Ereiniel aimed a defensive strike against the orc.

Globuk himself had no idea where he was heading as he raced through the meadow. He was just trying to get as far away from the valley as he could when he suddenly saw two figures in his path. In his blind panic, he didn't realize that it was two elves who stood in his way and he unknowingly barreled towards them.

The next thing he knew, there was a blinding light, a crack like thunder, and what felt like a stone wall hit him. The last thing he remembered was being unable to breathe, then there was nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Erestor recovered himself when Ereiniel's light faded, but stood in wide-eyed awe of the power that Fingolfin's line possessed. He had never witnessed it that close before.

Ereiniel cautiously walked forward to observe the dead orc on the ground.

"Where in all of creation did this come from?" she asked before looking towards the direction the orc came from. To her horror she heard the bushes rustle, and what sounded like scruffy voices and the clanking of metal pots. The noises suddenly withdrew.

"There's more of them!" Erestor cried as he swiftly mounted his horse. "It's best we gather a guard before hunting them, we don't know how many are out there."

Ereiniel silently agreed as she swung herself up behind him. She'd feel much better if she had a weapon too, Glorfindel had ran off with the only one they had.

"Hurry! Let's alert the Tra-la-lally guard and hunt them down!" she urged, making Erestor roll his eyes and groan as they galloped back to Imladris.

"Will you please stop calling it that?"

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you to those who have continued to read, follow, and favor this story! Please continue to tell me what you think, I appreciate your feedback!


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Glorfindel peered around the back-kitchen door before slowly creeping his way inside. He kept a low profile as he ducked, covered, and rolled behind the worktables, stoves, and columns, hoping to avoid the attention of a certain elf.

Despite his slight frame and delicate features, Lindir was a force to be reckoned with if he felt his domain was being encroached upon. Glorfindel had been reminded of that earlier in the afternoon when he had been gathering his supplies needed for the night. Lindir could wield a rolling pin with deadly accuracy if he chose to do so.

He managed to slip down into the wine cellar without notice and immediately grabbed a bottle blueberry wine off one of the racks. He held it under his arm as he browsed the selection, reading over the labels before finally selecting one made from apples and pears. Glorfindel pulled it off the shelf and turned, only to slam into the velvet robes of Elrond Peredhil.

"Lord Glorfindel," Elrond greeted with a frown as he stood with his hands on his hips.

"Lord Elrond!" Glorfindel startled, blanching at the sight of the elf lord. "What a…_pleasant _surprise!"

"Where is Ereiniel?" he asked. Elrond was clearly not happy from his glowering expression and stared at Glorfindel as if deciding whether or not he should be thrown from the highest waterfall.

"Um," he started, shrinking back. He felt as if his very existence depended upon how he answered the question. "She's…well, I haven't seen her."

"Haven't seen her?" Elrond was clearly unconvinced as he glanced at the bottle of blueberry wine in Glorfindel's hand. It was one of Ereiniel's favorites.

"Well, not recently."

"Uh, huh."

"But I know she's somewhere nearby."

"Somewhere?" Elrond questioned with a raised brow. "As in the near vicinity?"

"Y—yes," Glorfindel replied with a bit of reluctance. "Maybe."

"She's down in the bluebell woods, isn't she?" Glorfindel's eyes widened, wondering how in all of seven Voids Elrond figured it out, til he remembered he was wearing the crown Ereiniel made. He silently cursed himself.

"Oh for Aman's sake Elrond!" Glorfindel replied with a sigh. "You know she hates matters of diplomacy and feels like she said and did everything wrong afterwards. I simply brought her there to unwind."

"The fact Ereiniel did not join the feast is not the issue," Elrond replied. "There are a thousand excuses one could make if someone asks why the High Princess of the Noldor is unable to attend at the last moment. No, what I have an issue with is that she is out there, with you. Alone."

"What is the worst that could happen, Elrond?" Glorfindel asked, popping open his wine bottle. He suddenly felt like he needed a drink. "I mean, besides the fact we could elope. Which isn't all that likely, she has refused every time I have asked her."

Elrond sucked in a deep breath and loudly blew it out through his nose.

"Although we almost did after Gwathló a couple of years ago," he continued, taking a swig from his bottle while waving his other hand dismissively. "You know how it is after a battle, your emotions are still running high and you suddenly want to do everything that you hadn't done before because you weren't sure you would survive, and I really wanted to run away with her to a place where no one would find us for about a year."

Elrond's face went blood red while the golden elf remained oblivious.

"Speaking of which, did you ever write that letter to Lady Celebrián?"

"Don't try to turn this around on me—" Elrond started.

"You didn't, did you?" Glorfindel gasped and dramatically clutched his chest. "I'm shocked! I was quite certain after all those endless days of besiegement, fearing that Sauron's forces would break through our defenses and send us all straight to Lord Mandos' halls at any moment, that you would have sent your declaration of love with a messenger accompanied by the finest minstrels when the day was won!"

"Glorfindel, I'm warning you—"

"Come Peredhil!" he said, flinging his arm around Elrond's shoulders, almost bashing his lord in the face with the bottle of blueberry wine. "It is a miserable affair to wallow in unrequited love! We must remedy this at once! Let us procure our friend Erestor in this task, for his way with words is unrivaled in these lands, and together we shall create a missive that will surely win you the fair lady's heart!"

Elrond tried to shove the balrog slayer away from him, but the Vanya held fast as he ushered him to ascend the cellar stairwell with him.

"It is a shame Elrond, that you have yet to experience love's pleasures," Glorfindel continued, taking swigs from his bottle. "Just the simple joys of being in the presence of your beloved, hearing their voice, kissing their lips, and just feeling their soft skin against yours as you—"

Elrond let loose a strangled cry as he lunged for Glorfindel's throat, yet the golden elf instinctively sidestepped the attack and watched as the Lord of Imladris sailed headfirst over the railing and landed with a painful thump on the floor. Elrond was flailing on the ground, his limbs tangled in his voluminous robes, as Glorfindel pranced up the stairs out of harm's way.

"Do forgive me Lord Elrond, I promise I shall not forget to release you upon the morrow," he said, his head visible around the doorframe as his hand clutched the door. "I am only doing this for my beloved Ereiniel's sake."

"Glorfindel!" Elrond shouted as the Vanya slammed the cellar door and bolted it.

He took a celebratory drink from his bottle, thinking to himself how easy it was to play on one's emotions. He would need to pay closer attention to Erestor more often.

Glorfindel left the kitchen in much the same manner as he entered, crossed the moonlit kitchen garden, and effortlessly mounted Asfaloth, who had unfortunately found Lindir's herb patch. No matter, Glorfindel thought, any horse could have kicked the gate open and devoured whatever was there.

Besides, he had more important concerns. The High Princess was awaiting his return and he had kept her waiting long enough.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: **So sorry this has been updated later than usual, school has started back for me, so I don't have as much free time to write as I did before. I will be updating _at least _once a week from now on. Thank you for your patience and enjoy!

**Chapter 8**

"Globuk's dead! Globuk's dead!" Ashuruk shouted as he and the other orcs ran blindly through the forest, adrenaline coursing through their veins as they fled from Globuk's executioner.

"An elf lord! It was the power of an elf lord that killed him!" a spindly healer cried from somewhere to the right. "I seen it once before, no one can survive it! We're dead if they catch us!"

Pushdug's heart pounded at the thought of the bright form that unleased a power like crashing winds. He saw it slam into Globuk, heard the orc's body crack against it, and felt a cooling sensation like mist against his skin when the after-winds washed over him. The raw, unbridled power of the elf lord sent shivers down his spine and he didn't want to be on the receiving end.

"How do we even get out of here?" Ashuruk cried, but something in his voice startled Pushdug.

He skidded to a halt while shouting for his company to do the same.

"Listen," he said as he panted, leaning over his knees. "We don't know where we're headed to if we keep going the way we've been going. We're likely to run into a whole mess of elf lords if we don't pay attention!"

"So what do you suggest we do about it then?" Ashuruk said, his eyes bulging and tongue rolling from his mouth. His face looked like that of a fish out of water. "We don't stand no chance against elves!"

"I'm saying we lay low and sneak out of here," Pushdug replied. "They can't kill us if they don't catch us! Besides, if we make it out of here, we can report our route back to the captain —if he's alive— and not only will we live, but we'll likely be rewarded!"

All the other orcs looked at each other, unsure of the plan at first. However, the Dark Lord did promise a substantial reward for any who could find the way into the Hidden Valley when they lay siege to it years ago, and likely the reward still stood. The thought of living like kings for the rest of their days made them all agree it was worth a shot.

"We ain't got no better options," Ashuruk said as the other orcs nodded in consensus.

Pushdug nodded, feeling for the first time like he was the one in charge. It felt, surprisingly good. No wonder the captains were always barking orders and shoving grunts around. It was exhilarating.

However, the feeling was shattered when three loud blasts from an elven horn sounded in the distance. Pushdug resisted the urge to flee and admonished the others when he saw them start to bolt. It's what a captain would do.

"Lay low and keep to the shadows, keep a lookout for elves and a way out of here!" he said, and they huddled together in the darkness, their weapons drawn and eyes wide.

Perhaps, if they were lucky, and didn't come across an elf lord, they would make it out alive. Maybe. If Pushdug didn't feel like killing any of them for disobeying him.

The power was already going to his head.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Lindir hummed a tune as he walked through his beloved kitchen, overseeing the meticulous cleanup after the feast. He was carrying a stack of clean platters that needed to be put away in the cabinetry when he heard a peculiar sound coming from the direction of the wine cellar. He raised a brow when he thought he heard loud thumps and what sounded like muffled shouts.

He set his platters down on a counter and ventured close to the door, his gaze narrowed in vexation as he wondered if Glorfindel had been pilfering from it again. Lindir grabbed a rolling pin from a shelf and held it aloft as he closed in on the door, which someone was desperately trying to break down from the other side.

He could see the iron hinges rattling and heard someone shout, but it did not sound like the golden Vanya. Lindir gasped when he recognized the voice and unbolted the door, which swung open and slammed against the wall. Lord Elrond stood in the doorway, panting, with a look of burning hatred in his eyes.

"My Lord Elrond?" Lindir blinked as he lowered his rolling pin. "What are you—?"

"Where is Glorfindel?" the elf lord shouted as he barged past the startled Lindir. "Where did he go?"

"Glorfindel, my lord?" Lindir startled as he rushed to catch up with Elrond's impatient stride. "He was here?"

"Yes! That incompetent Vanya was in here, pilfering wine for Ereiniel it seemed," he said, scanning the kitchen before heading out the back door and into the garden. "No doubt he is racing back to her as we speak and will likely move her to another location."

"Forgive me, Lord Elrond I don't understand all that is happen—**what happened to my herb patch!**" Lindir suddenly shouted, his voice ringing through the night air.

Clods of dirt were strewn about the once tidy rows of peppermint, chamomile, and meadowsweet, and some of the herbs had been completely wiped out. Others had been chewed up and spat back out. Lindir looked to the kitchen gate, which swung miserably from busted hinges, and turned red with rage.

He looked to Elrond, and a silent understanding passed between them. Lindir gripped his rolling pin as he marched behind Elrond, out of the garden, and towards the stables.

"Where to my lord?" Lindir asked as they saddled their horses. "Do you have any idea where he has gone?"

"The bluebell woods are where we'll begin our search," Elrond said. "I know that is where he took her, but if they are gone by the time we get there, we should look for Erestor. I sent him ahead and he is the best of us at tracking."

"Indeed he is," Lindir agreed as they mounted their horses and left the stables. "With your permission my lord, I should very much like his punishment to include a year's worth of pruning, on top of the general repairs to my garden."

"We shall simply add it to the list," Elrond said as they rode out into the darkness. "Whilst I was, _imprisoned_, I started writing one in my head, one that will take him an age to complete."

Lindir almost felt sorry for Glorfindel as he beheld the festering fury that the half-elf possessed in his features. Lindir suspected that his contrived punishment was nothing compared to what Lord Elrond had in mind. He could easily imagine the Vanya cleaning bedpans in the infirmary for the next thousand years, among other unpleasant tasks.

Well, at least no one could say that Glorfindel didn't deserve what was coming to him.


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: **So sorry this is so late coming! Last week was a **nightmare.** Anywho, hope you enjoy!

**Chapter 10**

The Hall of Fire slowly emptied as the feasters decided to retire for the night or spend the rest of their evening elsewhere. Saelaethor had yet to decide if he would return to his room or take a leisurely stroll down by the riverside as he walked with Amathȋr, Lord Glorfindel's second-in-command, out of the hall.

Though the dark-haired, hawkish Saelaethor wasn't overly fond of the golden balrog slayer, he did have an amicable relationship with Amathȋr. The slender, blond-haired elf was more levelheaded and well-read than his commander, and didn't grow bored with scholarly conversations. He sometimes wondered if it was truly Glorfindel who led Elrond's forces, but felt that his animosity against the Vanya was often misplaced.

He conversed with Amathȋr as they strolled down the corridors and out into an adjacent garden, intending to get a bit of fresh air before deciding where to spend the remainder of the night. Several others had the same idea, and Saelaethor could see members of Elrond's household along with men from Númenor and Tharbad amongst the flora.

"If you recall, Rúmil said that most philosophical arguments were due to our inability to communicate effectively," Saelaethor said as he walked side by side with the blond elf, continuing the conversation they had started in the Hall. "He felt that the current language was inefficient for explaining what we meant, so how are we to judge if our language has met his standards?"

"I think our language is adequate for expressing what we mean. It is up to the speaker to use the correct words, I think," Amathȋr replied. "I can make it plain that I agree with Lindhren of Lindon's philosophy that all of Ilúvatar and Morgoth's creations are at odds because Ilúvatar's were created with a purpose and Morgoth's none, so I tend to think that our current language is sufficient enough for communicating whether you or I agree or disagree with that notion."

"Agreed. However, is it possible that what he meant was that with the ideal means of communication that there would be no misunderstandings or arguments?" he said as they reached a balustrade that overlooked the east courtyard.

"People will always argue over matters whether there is adequate language or not," Amathȋr said as he leaned against the railing while Saelaethor rested his hands upon it. "Just because there is an effective means of expressing what we think does not mean that will be the end of disagreements."

"Perhaps with the best language the severity will decrease, or—what in all of Arda," Saelaethor startled when he saw the dark robed Erestor ride hard into the courtyard with Princess Ereiniel behind him.

"Alert the Marchwardens!" Ereiniel shouted at the two guards that stood by the entrance to the door as they came upon them. "There are orcs in the valley!"

Saelaethor and Amathȋr bolted towards the nearest stairwell as one of the guards blew three loud blasts from his horn, which resonated throughout the entire valley. Ereiniel dismounted when they came up to her, their fine robes billowing about them, expecting the worst.

"Amathȋr, gather the guard and begin searching the woods, down by the Bluebell Meadow, that is where Erestor and I were attacked," Ereiniel said as more elves who saw and heard her gathered around. "I don't know how many are out there, so be careful."

Amathȋr inclined his head and immediately departed to carry out her command, instructing the two guards to follow him.

"Saelaethor, we will assist them," Ereiniel said as she started towards the doorway leading inside the house. Saelaethor, Erestor, and others followed. "Summon Lothiriel and our scouts, we will all meet at the stables."

"Of course milady," Saelaethor said as they marched up the stairway and came upon the feasters lingering outside the Hall of Fire.

"Has anyone seen Glorfindel?" she said, walking through the crowd, which parted before her.

"No milady," Saelaethor said, knowing Glorfindel had not been in attendance that evening. "He has not been seen here."

"Someone find him!" Ereiniel said before one of the tall, bearded, and exquisitely dressed Númenoreans waylaid her.

"Is there a problem milady?" he asked, his brow furrowed in concern. "Is it true there are orcs in the valley?"

Ereiniel sucked in a breath as she hesitated to answer. She didn't want anyone to panic, though she did not know what their purpose was or how many were out there. However, if they were being besieged, she wanted everyone prepared for the worst. In this case, she figured honesty was the best policy.

"Yes, I saw one," Ereiniel replied. "I killed it, but there are more out there. However, you will be safe if you remain here, I promise you that."

"Are we besieged?" another Númenorean, this one younger than the first, asked of her. "Have Sauron's forces come to destroy Rivendell?"

"Sauron does not have the strength following the Battle of Gwathló," Erestor stated. "His army was destroyed, and the number of orcs needed for a significant attack have not been seen in decades."

The Númenoreans didn't look convinced as they looked to each other and started to speak lowly. Ereiniel's spine stiffened and her shoulders squared as the rest of the hall stirred in nervous agitation. Startled voices filled the air along with a tense energy and Ereiniel felt she had made a terrible mistake.

What would ada or Elrond say to quell it? She thought, her heart pounding in her chest.

"The princess has promised that we will be safe here," a trembling, soft spoken voice suddenly broke the rising panic.

All eyes, including Ereiniel's turned towards a withered, grey bearded man in worn furs and unadorned clothing. He was one of the men from Tharbad, she realized, and a small group of other similarly dressed men stood with him. His drooping, sad looking eyes never left her as he continued to speak.

"She has protected this valley many times before, and I have no doubt we are in the safest place in Middle-earth. We have no need to fear if Ereiniel Thalarián has said so," he said, and she felt her heart swell at his words.

She glanced at Erestor, who stood with a knowing smirk upon his face. _I told you so_, she could hear him saying in her mind. Ereiniel couldn't stop the own grin forming on her face as she turned back to the men.

"Thank you for your kind words milord," Ereiniel said, wishing she could remember the man's name. "I will personally see to it that these orcs are found and killed, I will not allow them to harm any who are here. You may hold me to that promise."

The man bowed, as did those who accompanied him, and Ereiniel inclined her head in response. She turned to the Númenoreans, who also bowed when she addressed them.

"You may hold me accountable as well, if you so choose," she said.

"Nay, milady," the elder responded. "The old man is right; we know well that it was you who commanded the High King's vanguard at the battle of Gwathló that liberated Rivendell, and even before then it was you who safeguarded the survivors of Eregion by waylaying Sauron's forces. There is no need to hold you accountable to that which you have successfully accomplished in the past."

"Thank you, milord," she inclined her head, then turned her attention to the rest of the hall. "Do forgive me for interrupting your pleasant evening, please continue to enjoy my kinsman's hospitality."

She started back down the corridor, her entourage behind her, and grabbed Erestor's arm when they rounded a corner. "Please make sure there is a generous spread at breakfast tomorrow and that someone assures everyone that the orcs were found and killed."

"The valley is vast milady," Erestor whispered back to her. "It could take many days for them to be found."

Ereiniel released Erestor's arm and drew herself up to her full height as she marched down the corridor, her silver skirts swishing with every step. She was not the wisest speaker amongst the Eldar, but she was certainly one of the best at killing orcs. No enemy had yet to withstand her wrath.

"I can assure you Lord Erestor," she said with absolute confidence. "That they will all be dead by morning."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Glorfindel was cantering back to the bluebell woods, singing a bardic love song, when he heard the three horn blasts. He reigned in Asfaloth and turned his head in the direction of Imladris, scarcely believing what he heard.

Three meant there were enemies within the valley, and he waited for a few moments to hear if there were more signals, or if there was a secondary blast that would indicate a mistake. When none came, he spurned Asfaloth into a full gallop, racing back to the meadow to retrieve Ereiniel.

The memories of fire and collapsing stone were too tantalizingly close to flooding his mind.

Though he knew Ereiniel could defend herself, he didn't want her to be alone and unarmed, especially since he wasn't fully aware of the situation. Besides, no enemy had yet been able to stand against them when they fought together. Whatever foul creatures had invaded the valley would be swiftly dealt with.

Glorfindel burst through the trees and into the meadow, calling Ereiniel's name, but found it empty. Well, almost empty. His heart pounded as he dismounted and carefully approached the burly orc lying dead amongst the bluebells, black blood trickling from his nose and mouth.

He drew his sword and held it close to its mouth to ensure that no breath came from its lungs, and seeing none, he turned his attention to the surrounding area. His blue eyes searched the grass and flowers for any sign of where Ereiniel might have gone, and quickly found a horse tread that differed from Asfaloth's.

He breathed a sigh of relief when he recognized it and saw that it turned back towards Imladris. For once he was thankful that Elrond had sent Erestor to interrupt their evening, so much so that he almost forgave him for his last intrusion. He still had no idea how Erestor managed to slither into that waterfall cave without getting soaking wet when he and Ereiniel went for a swim one night.

Moreover, he was surprised that Erestor had agreed to follow them. The advisor was clearly not prepared to see them in the water, kissing, without any clothes on last time. It was probably the only time Glorfindel had ever seen the pristine advisor blush, stutter, and hesitate about what to do. Luckily, he had decided —for all their sakes— to keep his mouth shut and not inform Elrond about_ that _incident.

He didn't even want to think about what the king would have done if word got back to him about it.

Putting those thoughts from his head, Glorfindel crossed back over to the orc and decided to follow its path from the forest. His large feet had made clear impressions in the grass and had snapped some of the flowers as he ran across the meadow. Glorfindel ducked beneath a large bough and through a cluster of bushes when he came across two dozen more footsteps.

These were smaller in size and he could tell that there were not as big as the dead orc, though one seemed to be heavier than the others. They all stopped about where he was standing, then turned to the east.

With a solid lead, Glorfindel called for Asfaloth and swung himself up into the saddle when the horse drew near. "Come, Asfaloth!" he said. "Let us quickly find these orcs and dispatch them, they are disturbing my carefully planned evening with Meldanya!"

These orcs would regret intruding into their sanctuary once he found them, for he had every intention of revealing his full might as a Balrog Slayer. Then he would happily spend the rest of the night curled up in Ereiniel's lap with a bottle of wine in his hand. Better yet, he could convince her to go for a late-night swim.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: **Fair warning, if reading about gore makes you squeamish then you might want to skip this one. Thanks!

**Chapter 12**

Pushdug did his best not to gulp loudly as a hooded elf crept above the ravine where he and the other orcs hid. He kept his back flat against the ivy-covered rock as the elf stole along the edge, its grey eyes glistening in the dark.

This was the fourth troupe of elves they had come across and each time was more unnerving than the last. His heart thumped wildly in his chest as he heard it whispering to another unseen elf in its melodic tongue, which burned his ears. He glanced over at the other orcs who assumed similar positions, their eyes clenched and limbs trembling with fear.

However, Pushdug's mouth fell open when the spindly healer opened his mouth, drew in a sharp breath, then barely stifle a sneeze that escaped him. A sharp whisper escaped the elf, and the orcs could hear more elves move through the trees above them.

After a few tense minutes, the elf said something, and the elves withdrew barely rustling the foliage in their wake. Pushdug motioned for the orcs to follow him, pressing a finger to his lips to encourage them to keep silent. They tiptoed away from the ravine, staying in the shadows and listening for anything that might indicate the presence of elves. Pushdug never thought the sounds of rustling leaves or a hooting owl would nearly give him a heart attack.

When the reached the shadow of a great elm tree Pushdug stopped, turned, then smacked the sneezing orc with the flat side of his scimitar.

"You bumbling oaf!" he hissed, keeping his voice low so as not to arouse any unwanted attention. "You nearly went and gave us all away!"

"Well I couldn't help it!" the healer cried, and was smacked by three other orcs who felt he was too loud.

"If you do anything like it again, or can't keep your loudmouth shut, then I'll slice your throat open!" It was what a captain would say, Pushdug told himself with a firm nod.

"Eh, what?" the healer blinked, scarcely believing what he heard. Was the little tinkering Pushdug daring to challenge him? Even though they were both grunts amongst orc society, there was still a level of hierarchy. Healers came before patch workers.

"You heard me," Pushdug said as he gripped his scimitar tighter. "I'll make sure you won't talk or cause us trouble again; one dead orc is better than twelve."

A quiet murmur of agreement passed through the orcs as they all turned their beady eyes upon the healer, whom they believed had caused too much trouble already. They had already created a rough circle around him, and they fingered the knives and weapons they had in their hands.

"You honestly going to listen to this grunt?" the healer cried, pointing his finger at Pushdug. "He's been acting like he's the one in charge since Globuk got killed!"

All eyes turned to Pushdug, and some silently agreed that the tiny orc had been overstepping his bounds. If anyone should have been their leader, it was definitely not him. However, Pushdug puffed out his chest and pointed back.

"I ain't the one who's been sneezing and forgetting that we're being hunted by Elf Lords!" he said. "I've been the one who has led us away from them five times now! You're the grunt!"

The healer drew a saw-like weapon from his belt, one encrusted with black blood from a thousand amputations, and snarled. He lunged at Pushdug, bringing his weapon down upon his head, but Pushdug dodged and with one clean swipe of his sharpened scimitar, he sliced off the healer's arm.

He let loose a squeal of pain as black gore spurt from the stump of his arm before Pushdug swiftly beheaded him. His head fell to the ground and rolled some distance before it came to a stop at the feet of another orc.

His heart hammered wildly in his chest as adrenaline coursed through his veins, scarcely believing how good it felt to kill the healer. Killing other things was second nature to orcs, but to kill another orc, it was exhilarating.

All eyes now regarded him with a mixture of wonder and fear, and Pushdug pointed the end of his bloodied scimitar at them.

"Now, the rest of you had better keep quiet or I'll do the same thing to you!" he hissed, and they quickly nodded their heads in concession.

They kicked the healer, and his head, under a pile of bushes before they followed Pushdug away from the elm. This time though, they made sure they barely made a sound. Their newly appointed leader already looked like he was ready to kill something else. They just hoped it was an elf this time.


	13. Chapter 13

**A/N: **So sorry this chapter is so late coming, midterms were last week which took up a lot of my time. Hope you enjoy this though! and please let me know what you think!

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**Chapter 13**

Amathȋr was standing before a map of Imladris as he and several captains and scouts went over the information they had so far procured. They had pinned several brightly colored tacks upon the map, indicating the locations already cleared by patrols, trying to determine where the orcs might be.

It was this scene Ereiniel saw when she rode up to the guardhouse that served as a command post with a company of Elves behind her. They were a mix of Noldorin infantry, Falathrim and Sindarin bowmen, and Silvan scouts, all of whom pledged themselves to her House. She dismounted and approached with Erestor, Saelaethor, and the Silvan elf Lothiriel, who was another trusted captain.

"Milady," Amathȋr and the others bowed low when Ereiniel approached. She now looked more like the King's Lord Marshal dressed in a well-tailored, midnight blue gambeson with a sword, quiver, and bow strapped to her back. "Just as you said, we found the orc dead in the Bluebell Woods and we have also found the trail of the other orcs. We are pursuing them as we speak."

"Good," Ereiniel said with a nod. "Are those the locations that you have already searched there? Let me see."

The line of elves before the map parted as Amathȋr explained what they did and did not find in each location, careful to leave no shred of information out. However, they had not found much of anything in such a short span of time. What they did know was there appeared to be no more than a dozen, and there seemed to be no movement at the borders of Imladris that indicated a siege.

"From what we know milady, is that a small pack of orcs have somehow found their way into the valley, but we know not how," Amathȋr said.

"Elrond himself has said there may be entrances that we may not yet be aware of," Ereiniel said, her eyes never leaving the map. "The valley is a labyrinth of gullies and mountain passages. It's quite possible they found one of those paths. What are the locations that have not yet been searched?"

"We have started a ring around the Bluebell Woods and are searching outwards from it, the furthest locations here are where we have yet to begin," he said, pointing to the map.

"Then that is where we shall begin our search," Ereiniel said as she turned.

"Milady?" Amathȋr asked, his brow raised. "I thought you were—"

"You thought I was what?" she asked, genuinely perplexed.

"Are you not here to assume command? I was under the impression that since Lord Elrond and Lord Glorfindel have not appeared that you were going to lead us," Amathȋr said.

"You have not seen Elrond nor Glorfindel?" Ereiniel said with a raised brow, and he shook his head.

"No one has seen Lord Elrond since he departed the feast over an hour ago," Amathȋr said.

"And I was the last to see Glorfindel riding back to Imladris about the same time," she said.

Both of their hearts sank deep into their stomachs as they stared at each other with a matching expression of alarm.

"Have everyone who remains in Imladris to search everywhere for Lords Elrond and Glorfindel," Ereiniel commanded a scout, her heart was racing in her chest. "Leave no room unsearched, they must be found."

The scout nodded and quickly left the guardhouse.

"If Lord Glorfindel heard the alarm, he would have likely gone back to the wood to retrieve you, milady," Erestor said. The only thing that had changed about his appearance was a slender sword was now on his back. Four throwing knives were fastened to the belt across his chest.

Ereiniel turned to him and spoke lowly, so no one else could hear. "If you find him for me, the next emissary I send from Aearellond to Imladris will be Lindriel. As the head of my House she will not refuse to represent me if I ask her."

Erestor wasted no time in making his decision. He bowed to Ereiniel and departed for the Bluebell Woods at once.

"Lord Elrond appointed you to ensure the safety of the valley, Lord Amathȋr," Ereiniel said, turning back to him. "Please fulfil this task as commander, for you know this place far better than I. My forces and myself are at your complete disposal."

"O-of course," he said, inclining his head. "I greatly appreciate your assistance, as does Lord Elrond I'm sure."

"Indeed he does."

Startled, Ereiniel and Amathȋr turned to see the elaborately robed Elrond sweep into the guardhouse with Lindir behind him. Everyone but Ereiniel bowed low.

"Although I will say that I do not believe it is genuine help the High Princess gives, she has always liked to play the valiant hero, ever since she was an elfling," he said with a smile.

Ereiniel returned the smile. "And I will continue to play the hero and ride to Imladris' defense every time it is required."

"I never thought I would be so grateful to hear that," Elrond said, then waved at her dismissively. "Go and be Ereiniel the Valiant for the night, Amathȋr and I will keep watch from here."

"As you wish," Ereiniel gave a flourishing bow. "I shall have these trespassing orcs dead by morning Lord Elrond."

Elrond didn't miss her mocking tone, but chose to ignore it. This was no time for nitpicking battles and he turned to Amathȋr. "Where are Lords Erestor and Glorfindel?"

"Princess Ereiniel just sent Erestor to find Lord Glorfindel, his whereabouts are still unknown."

Elrond turned and frowned at Ereiniel. "Lord Erestor's expertise would have been better served in hunting the orcs," he said.

"When Lord Erestor finds Glorfindel he'll no doubt turn his attention to just that," Ereiniel replied. "No orc will be able to overcome the two of them."

"Is that what this is about?" Elrond's brow rose as Ereiniel returned a perplexed stare. "Come," he said, taking her arm and ushering her out of the guardhouse.

"Ereiniel, no orc will be able to overtake Lord Glorfindel if he shows his power," he said when they were out of earshot of the other Elves. "Nothing bad will happen to him this night."

"For all your famed wisdom you are sorely lacking in common sense," Ereiniel snapped back and jerked her arm out of his grasp. "I have seen some of the mightiest Elf Lords slain by a single arrow, and an Elf can easily be slain by an orc overcome with bloodlust."

"Erie," he sighed and moved to place a comforting hand upon her shoulder. "You have seen too much war in your life, but I can assure you that Glorfindel is safe within the valley, as are _you_. You will never see those sights here."

"We thought the same with Ost-in-Edhil," she said, the words tumbling from her mouth before she could stop them.

Elrond stared at Ereiniel as she stared back with a pallid face and wide eyes. Somehow, he knew it was not himself Ereiniel was seeing. Before her eyes was a landscape of ruin and smoke, and she saw the body of Celebrimbor hoisted on a tall pike shot full of arrows.

It wasn't just Celebrimbor that had died that day, something in Ereiniel did too. A sense of security had shattered within her, and she had become deathly afraid that those she loved would be snatched from her at any moment. Sauron's defeat had clearly done nothing to ease her fears and she must have felt that her premonitions were coming to life tonight.

"Erie," Elrond said as he wrapped his arms around her, wishing so desperately that he could heal those hurts in her heart. "Everyone will be fine, Erestor will find Glorfindel safe and sound. You'll see."

"Can you foresee it then?" she asked, her voice breaking. Ereiniel had opened her own Pandora's box and struggled to control the emotions that surged within her as a result. Ost-in-Edhil had been a second home to her and she had yet to heal from its destruction.

"No, but I don't need to foresee something that I know will come to pass," Elrond said, chiding her as he did when she was young.

"I suppose it is stupid of me to ask," she said, stepping out of his embrace. "Foresight only shows you devastation and your loved ones dying," she said, looking at him with red rimmed eyes and no small measure of bitterness in her tone.

"It's never a guarantee Erie," Elrond said.

"I suppose we'll find out sooner or later, won't we?" she replied, turning on her heel. "I'll be searching the Northwest, maybe they'll try to make for the Mountain."

Elrond sighed as she walked away, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. He sometimes didn't recognize her nowadays. That carefree, innocent girl who would spend her days playing and dancing by the sea seemed forever lost. Glorfindel could sometimes pull remnants of the younger Ereiniel back for a short while, but it was never really _her_.

His thoughts lingered around that until he realized that he had been selfish to send Erestor after Ereiniel. Though he often didn't give the Vanya Elf much mental credit, Glorfindel was often able to sense Ereiniel's moods better than the rest of them. He probably realized that she was upset earlier that day and needed a break, and Elrond should have suspected his intentions.

Having lived in a constant state of war since Ost-in-Edhil was destroyed, she had yet to fully grieve and come to terms with many terrifying things she had witnessed and lived through. Elrond knew that the effects of untreated trauma could appear as everyday stresses, for he had seen her struggle to make simple decisions, second guess herself, then spend an innumerable amount of time worrying about the ramifications. She also had to know where everyone was and would fly into a panic if someone went missing for a time.

Elrond chastised himself, he should have been helping her this entire time, he was a healer after all.

With this in mind he started after Ereiniel, shrugging off his outer robe. She was walking out of the guardhouse to her horse when Elrond tossed the robe over a chair and grabbed a sword, bow, and quiver from a rack along the wall.

He left quick instructions to Amathȋr and followed Ereiniel out of the guardhouse. She had already mounted her horse when he walked out, buckling the quiver across his chest.

"What are you doing?" she asked him with a raised brow.

"I'm going to help you," he replied, striding over to his horse. "Whether you want it or not."

Ereiniel's mouth twitched upwards. "Just don't slow me down," she said.

"I won't," he said as he swung himself up in the saddle. '_But that's not what I meant, I'm going to help__** you**__, Erie_,' he said, his thoughts touching hers. _'You've been needing it for a long time.'_

A look of startled realization passed over her face before she sighed. "I'm not going to like it, am I?"

"No, probably not," Elrond replied. _'Healing hearts is far more painful than any other injury, there's nothing that can prevent the pain. You'll feel like you're breaking into pieces, but if you don't start healing now, your mind may shatter. There's only so much a person can take before they breakdown.' _

"I suppose you're right, as usual," she grumbled, urging her horse forward.

"The bright side is," he said as his horse came to walk alongside hers, "you'll know exactly where I am at this entire evening."

Ereiniel gave a slight smile and glanced over at him. "That at least, I am content with."


	14. Chapter 14

Chapter 14

Glorfindel crouched against an outcrop of rocks as he struggled to discern tracks in the shadows. The hard-packed soil and darkness made it difficult for elven eyes to see which way the orcs had fled. Not that it would have mattered, he thought to himself. For over an hour he had followed the tracks in the valley, finding they often doubled back or circled the same location many times. The orcs were likely confused, lost, and trying to hide from the Elves that prowled the valley.

The Balrog Slayer had come across many hunting parties in the woods, and he was just one of many that were now trying to determine if these footsteps indicated where they had gone. Several hooded elves were just a few yards before him, searching the undergrowth for any signs while more were on the ridge above him and in the trees.

Glorfindel touched his fingertips to the earth, feeling for any depressions his eyes could not see. He crept along the base of the ravine, his fingertips rose and fell along what he assumed were footstep indentations til he hit undergrowth. He saw them more clearly in the softer ground and spied snapped branches along their path.

He followed it for several feet, making sure it wasn't another dead end, keeping low to the ground. He fought his way through shrubbery and dense thickets til he came upon a small clearing that showed obvious signs the orcs had come this direction.

A smile broke out on his face as he shouted, "I found it!"

"It's about time that you did," a mellow voice said directly behind him, one that made Glorfindel nearly jump out of his skin.

"How long have you been there?" Glorfindel turned his blue gaze to the dark elf lingering in the shadow of a great elm, his silver eyes seemed to glow in the darkness.

"Long enough," Erestor replied as he took several steps closer to the Vanya. Glorfindel stood and swiped away the twigs and leaves that had become attached to him. "The Lady Ereiniel sent me to find you."

"I knew that the moment I saw you," Glorfindel replied as he adjusted his crown of flowers. "I hope my absence didn't worry her too much, but I think I know better."

"Lord Elrond arrived the moment I left," Erestor replied, choosing not to remark on the ridiculous crown Glorfindel wore upon his head. "He can sometimes reassure her, but I have no doubts that until she sees you Lady Ereiniel will be beside herself with worry."

It was Glorfindel's own thought, but he did not want to abandon the search for the orcs now that he had found their trail. He could kill them quickly if he found them, but it bothered him that he would cause needless concern. While he knew that she would fret until she heard some news of him, she would still continue to do her duty.

Though Ereiniel struggled with anxiety, which Glorfindel readily recognized since he had seen many suffer the same infliction following the Dagor Nírnaeth Arnoediad, he knew she wouldn't break easily. Especially not overnight. She would continue to lead, fight, and defend as she had always done. He had long ago realized that her profound need to protect would overcome any obstacle, internal or external. It was one of the reasons he loved her so.

"Since you have now found me Lord Erestor, might I suggest we now turn our attentions to finding these orcs," Glorfindel said. "I do not wish my prolonged absence to cause my lovely Meldanya further distress, we must find them quickly now."

Erestor rolled his eyes, but turned his attention to the tracks before them.

"These orcs are lost within the valley, that much is certain," Erestor said, his eyes fixed upon the ground. "They have been trying to avoid detection and their path has been consistent with avoiding the hunting parties combing the forest."

"The only thing that concerns me is which way they have gone and where are they now," Glorfindel said as he fixed himself beside the advisor.

"They'll make themselves known shortly, of that I have no doubt," Erestor said, discontent with the Vanya's close proximity. He started circling the clearing in a slow, observant manner. "You should pay more attention to your surroundings, you'd be able to see that there is something wrong with these orcs."

"Oh?" Glorfindel's brow rose. He followed Erestor's path and kept his gaze fixed upon the ground. The footsteps here were more spread out, unlike the single line they had followed thus far. Curiously, there was a black substance that sprayed the ground. "What is the meaning of this then?"

"You can never figure out things for yourself can you?" Erestor sighed and kicked away the brush underneath a dense thicket.

Glorfindel startled when Erestor uncovered the corpse of a small green orc. Its severed head and arm lay beside it, and black blood pooled around its arm and neck. On its back was a worn leather pack, from which spilled pouches of dried herbs, small filthy knives, and strips of crude bandages.

"It's an orc healer," Erestor explained as Glorfindel knelt to examine it. "Even within orc society medics are held to some esteem, it isn't often they are killed by their own kind."

"So what did this orc do that was so severe that they killed him?" Glorfindel said as his eyes roamed over the corpse, searching for a clue.

"I think the right question is, what was going through the mind of the orc that killed him?" Erestor replied, his eyes seemed to pierce the body of the orc and find what it was that Glorfindel searched for.

"You believe it to be bloodlust then?" Glorfindel's head snapped around as Erestor stared at him with a cool indifference.

"Perhaps," he said. "We will not know until we find them."

"Or their corpses," Glorfindel replied as he stood. "Wouldn't it be grand if this problem fixed itself?"

"There will still be the last orc to deal with and it may be difficult to kill," Erestor said. "The sooner we find it the better."

"Then let us not wait any longer," Glorfindel said, then gave a flourishing bow. "After you then, I shall follow your lead, and be your guard!"

"Must you be so dramatic?" Erestor said, rolling his eyes. He nonetheless started into the forest, seemingly knowing where to go and Glorfindel followed. "The world isn't your stage."

"It will be, should tragedy befall our beloved King ―Eru forbid― and I am made Ereiniel's Queen," Glorfindel said with the utmost sincerity.

"You're an idiot," came the tart reply.

"Do you not think the White Hall in the King's palace would make an excellent theater?"

"I refuse to answer your foolish questions."

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A/N: Yay! I updated! I've also been working on my other story here recently, since I have been neglecting it in favor of this one. Hopefully that chapter will be posted soon. As always, I'd love to hear your thoughts!


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Pushdug couldn't stop shaking.

He hadn't been able to since he killed the other orc, and the muscles in his face kept twitching. Moreover, he could barely keep his thoughts focused on finding a way out of the valley. His mind kept replaying the moment when he lopped off the healer's head; he could still feel his blade slice through flesh and sinew, and smell the iron tang of blood.

By Morgoth, he'd give anything to experience it again.

"Oi!" Ashuruk startled, grabbing Pushdug by the collar of his leather cuirass.

He fell upon the smaller orc, shoving him to the ground before he could walk haphazardly through a thicket. Pushdug felt all the air leave his lungs as the heavier orc kept him pinned to the ground, pressing his face flat against the soft earth.

His ears perked up as horse hooves and twinkling bells sounded in the distance, coming closer with every passing second. The adrenaline that suddenly flooded his veins banished the thoughts of gore and blood, and every sense was focused upon the pack of elves that thundered past them.

He moved his head so he could see the horses' legs, but even when the last of them rode away Ashuruk still lay on top of him. The fat orc remained until the sound of horses were long gone, and it wasn't until Pushdug began squirming that Ashuruk rolled away.

"Blimey! You almost ran right out in front of 'em!" Ashuruk cried as Pushdug gasped for air. "Didn't you hear them coming?"

"Of course!" Pushdug coughed as he stood, then wiped away the dirt that clung to his clothing. It didn't make him look any cleaner. "I just, well, I was―"

"Thinking about Bagronk?" a spindly orc with tiny voice said, his large round eyes stared at him like an unblinking fish.

"Who?" Pushdug asked, scratching his forehead with his scimitar. "You talking about that healer?"

"Yea," the orc replied. "You've been acting awfully strange since you killed him."

"Bah!" Pushdug dismissed the notion with a wave of his hand. "I've just been concentrating awfully hard is all, trying to find a way out of here. You lot haven't been coming up with anything, so I've been having to do all the thinking!"

"You brought us straight to an Elven road, which we've been trying to avoid all night!" The bug-eyed orc was clearly unconvinced, and neither were two others. An orc with lumpy skin and another with twig like limbs stood by him.

"Oh I don't think so," the one with lumpy skin said. "I was a part of Captain Gazmog's outfit before he went mad with bloodlust. After he executed some poor grunt for stealin' he started shaking and wasn't able to concentrate on nothin' he did. Suddenly he went berserk and killed at least fifty of his own troupe before three lieutenants and two trolls were able to kill 'im," he said with a nod.

As if on cue, Pushdug's scimitar rattled in his hand and the corners of his mouth twitched. He couldn't help but wonder if the orc's bones were lumpy too. He could easily peel the skin away to find out…

"Oi! You listenin'?" the twiggy one said in a deep voice.

"I um―" Pushdug loudly cleared his throat as his face continued to twitch.

Unexpectedly, Pushdug lunged for the lumpy orc. His scimitar came down on the orc's shoulder, slicing his arm clean off. The orc howled and jumped back, as did the other two orcs that were nearest to him.

"Blimey!" Ashuruk called somewhere behind him. "What did you do that for?"

"He's gone mad is what!" the bug-eyed orc cried as Pushdug swung his scimitar again, this time trying to slice his other arm off.

The lumpy one managed to evade the swipe and turned to run into the forest. Pushdug started after him, but ―luckily for the other orc― Pushdug's foot caught a loose tree root and he fell flat on his face. It managed to clear the deadly haze that clouded his thoughts for the time being.

"That's it! I ain't stayin' here with the likes of him!" the bug-eyed orc said as he carefully edged his way around Pushdug and followed after the other orc.

"Got a better chance of getting killed quick by the elves than with 'im," the twiggy orc said, close on the heels of bug-eye.

By the time Pushdug got to his feet, all the other orcs had fled, save Ashuruk. The cook's eyes were transfixed on the swaying branches in the thickets, indicating the different directions the other orcs ran. Pushdug felt deflated as he once again brushed off his dirty armor. His command of an orc troupe hadn't lasted two hours, and he had driven away all those whom he could readily kill.

It was such a shame.

"Aren't you going to run off too?" Pushdug asked, looking at Ashuruk out of the corner of his eye. The other orc shrugged.

"Suppose I could," he responded. "But I figure I got a better chance of surviving this ordeal by sticking around with you than any of the other lot."

"Oh?" Pushdug's brows rose as the pudgy orc took a few steps closer to him.

"You're probably the most dangerous orc in this entire valley right now," he said. "I figure, you'll be the one who can hack our way out of this mess, or if the elves catch us and you go stark raving mad with bloodlust, I'll have an easier time escaping while they're concentrating on trying to kill you."

Ashuruk seemed proud of his plan, because he grinned and nodded the entire time he spoke. Pushdug's mouth hung open in utter bewilderment, because it was an utterly despicable, utterly brilliant plan.

If anyone was going to survive this, it was going to be them for sure.

"Hopefully those other idiots will be able to cause enough trouble to keep the elves' attention on them and not us," Pushdug said as he and Ashuruk started back into the forest, moving away from the elven path.

"You know, this is the first time tonight that I genuinely think that I'll live through this," Ashuruk replied. "I could almost sing for joy."

"Please don't, I may actually kill you if you do."

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**A/N:** Hope you all are enjoying Pushdug, he's quickly become one of my favorites to write about. I've found orcs are incredibly fun. Please let me know what you think


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N:** Hello everyone! Sorry for the unexpected hiatus. A lot of bad things happened at the beginning of the year that caused me to lose interest in everything basically, but I'm back, feeling better, and determined to finish this! Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

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**Chapter 16**

Ereiniel had become well acquainted with the valley in recent years, but there were still many places unfamiliar to her. There always seemed to be yet another gulley or vale that she hadn't charted, which meant there were far too many places for orcs to hide. Worse yet, there were many thickets and dense treetops from where they might lay traps. Orcs could be quite cunning, even in a pinch. They could easily set a spring spear or dead fall trap in minutes. Too often had she seen their deadly effects on Men and Elves alike.

She gently crept through the forest with her bow in hand, continuously scanning the ground and her surroundings. More often than not though, her eyes strayed to Elrond. She wished he hadn't come.

Ereiniel would have felt much better had he remained at the guardhouse with Lindir. She wouldn't have had to worry about him falling into a hastily dug hole and impaling himself on a pike, or see an orc jump from the shadowy treetops and stab him.

She tried to reassure herself that Elrond was just as adapt at hunting orcs as the rest of them. He kept his head down and his tread was silent and cautious. She had also been with him during several battles and skirmishes, and knew he could defend himself. Despite this, the fear remained.

Growing up she always thought she was the oddball of her family. Everyone always said that Fingolfin's line was fearless, but fear had always been her constant companion. Ever since she was an elfling she was deathly afraid something would harm her family, but as she got older she was more afraid of disappointing the people who expected her to lead them. It was fear that made her enlist in the army when she came of age, and caused her to spend much of her free time speaking with advisors about ruling and diplomacy.

However, there were times when her fears overwhelmed her and made her do things she would never have otherwise done.

It was fear that made her ignore her father's request to remain in Lindon while Elrond marched to Eregion to rescue Celebrimbor. Fear made her assemble a small company to waylay the pursuing orc army while Elrond escaped with the survivors to Imladris. More importantly, it was fear that enabled her to command the Elven vanguard at the Battle of Gwathló.

Gil-galad intended for her to remain in Lindon to guard against a counterattack, but Ereiniel―still reeling from Celebrimbor's death and afraid the same fate would befall Elrond―openly contested this decision.

She was his heir and fully capable of commanding an army. She had proved it in Eregion when she commanded their right flank, being the only regiment to successfully drive back Sauron's army and allow many to escape. Her company also decimated every orc company in all the skirmishes and battles across Eregion. She could say that no orc had yet crossed into Lindon due to her efforts, and she was capable of rescuing Elrond.

It was the first and only time they had ever fought, and though Gil-galad had sent everyone out of the room, she was certain every Man and Elf could hear them shouting and crying.

She learned during their argument that her father's decision was based upon his own fear; that Elrond would be overrun before they got to him and he didn't want to lose her in the ensuing battle. The grief would kill him. She remembered being wrapped tight in his arms after their fight ended feeling weary, relieved, ashamed, and grateful. "I just wanted to protect you Erie," he said, "but it seems I must put my fear aside and trust you to protect yourself."

The admittance shattered a long-held perception of hers, that her father was incapable of fearing anything. He was always the most imposing Elf in the room, cool-headed under pressure, and the best warrior in Arda. All Elves were loyal to him, Dwarves respected him, Men revered him, and Sauron feared him. It was hard to imagine her father afraid of anything.

It was only then that she realized something important about her family. They weren't fearless, none of them were― it was all a damned lie. It was what they did in response to that fear that made them heroes.

Fear of his family's destruction was what made Fingolfin challenge Morgoth, fear of his friend's torment led Fingon to rescue Maedhros from Thangorodrim, and it was fear that compelled Idril to build her secret tunnel out of Gondolin.

The truth was, Fingolfin's line were the most fearful lot in all of Arda. Ereiniel was no different from the rest of them. This knowledge didn't make her feel better though.

Ereiniel stayed in front of Elrond as they moved through the forest, knowing that if something jumped out or there was a trap before them, it would hit her first. She didn't care that she was putting herself at risk, it meant she wouldn't have to see someone else she loved die. She wouldn't bear the loss.

_'Do you not think I know what you're doing?'_ Elrond said, opening his thoughts to her when he slid up behind her.

She didn't respond. Not only was it unnecessary, but she often struggled to keep the pervasive thoughts and images in her mind from leaking out. She didn't open up for anyone any longer, not even Glorfindel or her ada. She didn't want to bombard them with scenes of Celebrimbor and her own worst imaginings.

_'I may not have taken part in as many orc hunting parties as you, but I do know what I'm doing,'_ Elrond said. _'I don't need you to protect me.'_

"If you had been like me and trained in the army when you were young, I might have no reason to worry," she replied, her voice barely above a whisper.

"Forgive me if I chose to devote myself to healing instead," Elrond responded in the same low voice.

"Which is precisely why I'm looking after you," she said, sliding through dense brush. "If one of us gets attacked, we'll need you to treat them. You're the most valuable member of this party right now."

"I would think the High King's daughter would have precedence over a healer, even if he is a ruling lord," Elrond retorted.

"Not in this case," she said. "You would know this if you were in the field more often. You've spent too much time leading an army."

"You're making excuses," Elrond almost snapped. "I'm not more important than you Erie."

"You are to me," she responded.

Elrond breathed a sigh.

_'I know you don't want anyone else to die Erie, but there's no reason for you to put yourself directly in harm's way. You would cause great harm to those you are trying to protect if you get yourself killed.'_

Ereiniel's ears twitched at this.

_'Myself, Gil-galad, Glorfindel, your mother, none of us want to see you get hurt. Not again,'_ he said.

Ereiniel knew he was referring to when she and Ciryator of Númenor made their last charge at Sauron's remaining line of defense at Gwathló. It was the most intense fighting that took place, but just before they could break through to Sauron's remaining bodyguards a reserved company of trolls smashed into them.

Ereiniel herself was knocked off her horse when she was struck by a war hammer, shattering her left arm and breaking several ribs. She didn't remember much after that, though she faintly recalled being carried off the field on a stretcher and it was difficult to breathe at times.

She was much more cognizant when Gil-galad burst into the medic tent she had been taken to, frantically searching for her after he learned she was wounded. Even Círdan was visibly shaken when they found her, which almost made her cry. She knew she scared them and that was the last thing she wanted.

She even remembered how Elrond rushed straight to her when Rivendell's forces met with theirs a few days later. She had been standing outside her father's tent, still bruised and swollen with her arm in a sling, intending to make a stupid joke about the little sister having to come rescue her big brother. The quip died on her tongue the moment she saw the concern in his eyes.

"Don't look at me like that," she snapped at him. It wasn't the first thing she wanted to say to Elrond when they were reunited, especially not after learning he had survived Sauron's siege. "I'm fine, you're fine. Let's leave it at that."

Of course the healer in him wouldn't let it alone, not then, not now.

_'You haven't had time to properly grieve or process the traumatic things that have happened to you these last few years, you're hurting, and I want to help you.'_

Ereiniel knelt when the brown haired Lothiriel motioned for them to stop. The Silvan Elf waited a few moments, staring into the darkness before cautiously slipping into a wall of vegetation. Two other Elves followed her.

"Must you do this now?" she murmured as Elrond crouched close beside her. "It's not the best time."

_'Just open you mind to me,'_ Elrond urged.

"You don't want that," Ereiniel said through gritted teeth as stared at the spot where Lothiriel disappeared. She was growing increasingly anxious and gripped her bow tighter. She could hear leaves whipping in the distance and drawing closer.

Something was out there….

_'Let me help you.'_

Someone shouted, and an orc came barreling through the brush straight for them. Ereiniel shoved Elrond aside, pulling her sword from her back and slicing at its neck. The orc staggered and dropped with blood squirting from its neck.

Another bug-eyed orc appeared out of the foliage, swinging its chipped scimitar at her. Ereiniel parried, feeling the orc's weapon clash and crack against the sword forged by Celebrimbor. The orc's arm was still rattling when Ereiniel thrust forward, taking advantage of the orc's poor fighting skills.

The sword slid through the orc's chest, lacerating its heart and killing it in a near instant. Ereiniel had just grabbed hold of the dead orc's shoulder to pull her sword free when a third orc rushed at her. Its weapon was raised and poised to strike when an arrow flew over Ereiniel's shoulder and embedded itself within the orc's eye socket.

The orc collapsed on the ground, twitching for a few seconds before falling still. Ereiniel freed her sword and looked over her shoulder at Elrond. She half expected him to be standing there smirking, but there was only a look of horror and concern on his face.

"Are you alright?" he asked as he rushed up to her.

"I'm fine," she replied.

Ereiniel removed a rag from her belt and quickly cleaned her sword when it appeared the attack was over. There was only three of them and they were small and bony, and carried packs that indicated they were army retainers. No wonder they were easy to kill.

Lothiriel came running out of the foliage as the hunting party gathered around the corpses.

"I thought I saw something moving away from us," she said as she knelt to examine them. "They must have seen me and decided to attack."

"Much good it did them," Saelaethor said as his dark eyes roamed over them. "These were clearly not battle trained."

"Hopefully they're all like that," Ereiniel said as she turned from the dead orcs.

"You believe there's more?" Elrond said as he followed her deeper into the forest.

"That orc with the missing arm. It was a fresh wound and I didn't cause it," she replied. "Look, there's blood everywhere, if we follow this trail it may lead us to others."

_'You're getting tense,'_ Elrond said, noting her quickened pace and higher pitched voice. He had trouble keeping up with her impatient stride. _'There's no need, we're going to find them all.'_

Ereiniel didn't answer as they followed the trail to an inconspicuous location near one of the riding trails. The grass was matted where the orcs had stood, and there was plenty of black blood spewed on the ground, along with a severed arm.

"This is an epicenter," Lothiriel said as she quickly walked around the perimeter. "There are several trails that lead away from here. They must have split up."

"They cannot have gotten far," Ereiniel said. "We'll split up and follow them."

"We should be cautious," Saelaethor urged. "Most likely these orcs scattered after one attacked the other."

"This isn't unusual though," Lothiriel said. "Orcs fight amongst themselves all the time."

"True," Ereiniel responded. "But I agree with Saelaethor, we don't know why these orcs are here or what their purpose may be. We also don't know what they are capable of."

Elrond watched quietly as Ereiniel quickly divided their party, making sure that powerful High Elves like Saelaethor went with each group. It was a common survival tactic, but Elrond noted that she did not direct him to go with one of his own. She intended to keep him close.

They broke off in different directions, following their own trail through the darkened forest. Elrond kept close to Ereiniel as they led their own small party along the trail before going up a craggy hillside.

"Dawn is only a few hours away," Ereiniel said, her tone matched her impatient stride. "They won't be able to hide for much longer."

Elrond looked down and saw her gripping her bow with white knuckles. Her arm trembled and he could see her jaw clenched tight. She was anxious, but he didn't believe it was because she was ready for this to be over. No, something else was bothering her.

_'Erie,'_ he started, soothing and reassuring. _'What are you so afraid of?'_

_'STOP!'_ she shouted, like a crack of thunder in his mind. She stopped and stared at him. _'For all your famed wisdom there are times when you are completely naïve. You don't know half of what orcs are capable of, what they did to Celebrimbor and Ost-in-Edhil is only a glimpse of their brutality. Do you really want to know what I'm afraid of?'_

Elrond was suddenly assailed by images in his mind. There was Celebrimbor's body yes, but hundreds of others similar to it. Fields, trees, and even houses on fire, landscapes strewn with bodies of Elves and Men. There were far too many scenes that were too horrible to describe, filled with mutilations and tortures. None were spared, not even children. She had cradled hundreds of dying people in her arms.

The scenes stopped as abruptly as they started, leaving them both standing with tears pouring down their faces. While Elrond knew that Ereiniel had faced many horrors and tragedies during the time he was holed up in Imladris, he never knew that she had faced such extreme devastation. While he too witnessed death on a nearly daily basis during the siege, Ereiniel was a witness to something far worse. It was too much for any heart to bear.

_'While Sauron lives I fear that our lands will one day be obliterated and I will see all my loved ones die,'_ Ereiniel said, staring into his eyes. _'And you should be afraid too.'_

She turned on her heel and stormed off with a stark warning.

"Don't fall behind."


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

"Why do I **always** get stuck with you?" Erestor groaned as he shoved a curtain of dense vines aside, following Glorfindel as they tromped through dense underbrush. The air was colder, and the vegetation was far greener; they must be getting close to the Bruinen.

"Just lucky I guess," the golden Elf responded, scratching his temple. "Where do you suppose they are?"

"I showed you which way they went, but then you said you had a gut feeling and started walking off in this direction," Erestor said, smacking away a wayward vine that sought to tangle itself in his hair. "Now here we are in this Eru-forsaken place probably the farthest away from anything and everyone―"

Erestor stopped and glowered at Glorfindel.

"This is why I don't like going off with you," he said, folding his arms tightly across his chest.

"Hmn?" Glorfindel turned, his eyes wide and genuinely perplexed by Erestor's statement.

"Why didn't you just say we should search the place where they're most likely to run? The river is just a few paces from here and down the ravine. If they find it, it will lead them out of the valley."

"I was certain you would have figured it out before now," Glorfindel said with a shrug.

Erestor gritted his teeth. Glorfindel may have acted like a love-sick dolt in front of everyone, but behind that façade was a tactical genius, one which often astounded Erestor. His strategies enabled Imladris to fend of Sauron's army, and he no doubt was the reason why many people escaped the fall of Gondolin. Not to mention he was able to kill a Balrog, a feat which required more than skill with a blade.

It was an ability that made Erestor green with envy. Not that he would mention it of course.

"The patrols will find them if they do not come this way," Glorfindel said as he walked towards the edge of the ravine and peered down at the rocky bank and rushing waters. "They'll be dead by morning, especially since Ereiniel is out looking for them as well."

"And you figured we'll come and guard their only route of escape," Erestor said. "Not bad, if you don't consider there could be an infinite number of hidden passages that we don't know about."

"Indeed, there is the chance they could slip back through whatever hole they crawled out of, but if they were going to do so they would have done it after we started searching for them," he said. "I think they don't have the slightest clue where they are or where they're going, and I'm confident that our patrols will catch up to them."

"So we're just going to wait?" Erestor growled. "Til when?"

"Til dawn," Glorfindel replied, finding a low-lying branch to sit down upon. "Like I said, they will either come this way, or they'll be killed."

Erestor rubbed his temple, not convinced this was the right plan due to too many variables and unknowns. However, Glorfindel was rarely wrong and he had far more experience. Erestor hated to admit that he was simply going to have to trust the golden dolt.

"I don't like this," Erestor said.

"Neither do I, especially considering I wanted this to be over with quickly. My night has been thoroughly ruined."

"I'm not apologizing for following you again, if that's what you're after," Erestor stated.

"Quite the contrary, this time I was glad for your intrusion," Glorfindel said. "But only because the circumstances are what they are."

"She would have been fine without me there," Erestor replied. "Princess Ereiniel is quite powerful."

"Not my point," he retorted. "Regardless of your intention you were there to defend her if needed, that's all that matters. And I thank you for it."

"General service does not usually require thanks, but, circumstances what they are, you're welcome," Erestor said, inclining his head.

"But she is extraordinary, isn't she?" Glorfindel asked, his face lighting up.

Erestor couldn't help but roll his eyes. Just because Glorfindel was in love with Ereiniel didn't mean everyone else was. No, Erestor could only love one person and she was far away in Lindon.

"To each his own," Erestor muttered.

"That reminds me!" Glorfindel suddenly jumped up from his seat and leapt over to him. "I promised Lord Elrond that we would help him woo the Lady Celebrían."

Erestor narrowed his gaze, wondering why on Arda he kept getting dragged into situations like this. Did Glorfindel have no one else to pester? But, Elrond's constant pining was getting to be downright pitiful. Even he was willing to admit something needed to be done.

"And how are we to accomplish that?" he asked, folding his arms. "I doubt she even knows he's in love with her."

"That is why he needs our help," Glorfindel replied. "If he says nothing, then what stops her from running off and finding some other Ellon in the backwoods somewhere? It'll break his heart. You and I do not want to see our friend wallowing in unrequited love, do you?"

Erestor's brow rose. Glorfindel clearly did not want to admit he was speaking from experience, but he was never the type to talk about his past, nor his troubles. Regardless, Erestor could gather that the heartbreak Glorfindel experienced over Aredhel was great enough to try to prevent the same from befalling Elrond.

"What do you have in mind?" Erestor sighed.

"Nothing as of yet," he shrugged. "I know he wrote dozens of letters to her during our besiegement years ago, but never sent them. I thought we might write her a letter on his behalf."

"But you cannot just send a letter confessing your undying love out of the blue," Erestor said. "She might get the impression that he's mad, especially when you consider the fact they have only met a handful of times."

"Well, I told Ereiniel I thought I was in love with her about a fortnight after meeting her," Glorfindel said with a careless shrug. "And we're going to marry before I return to Aman."

"Yes, but how did she react when you told her?" Erestor asked. Glorfindel didn't hesitate.

"She laughed and didn't think I was seriou―oh, I see your point."

Erestor pinched the bridge of his nose and exhaled heavily.

"Well, what do we do? Lady Celebrían resides in Lothlórien, how does one court someone from such distance?" Glorfindel asked, folding his arms.

"One cannot," Erestor stated, staring at something intently on the ground as he pondered the predicament. "We'll simply have to find a way to make Lady Celebrían come to us."

"It would be easier to go to her," Glorfindel said. "We could come up with a diplomatic reason."

"Yes, but Lord Elrond's presence in King Amroth's court, instead of a diplomat such as myself, would raise suspicions. And Lord Celeborn is just as protective of his daughter as King Gil-galad is his," Erestor retorted. "Besides, we need everything to be in our advantage. We can better control the variables that might arise if we are in familiar territory."

"And Elrond would be required to play generous host to his guest," Glorfindel said, his eyes glittering as he considered the prospect. "Yes! It is a most excellent plan!" He smiled gleefully. "How do we get her here though?"

"That is our greatest dilemma," Erestor replied. "How do we get Lady Celebrían to visit Imladris without Lord Celeborn or Lady Galadriel? And no, we can't just invite her and not her parents."

Glorfindel snapped his mouth shut.

Unable to come up with another solution, Glorfindel placed his hands on his hips and started to pace, looking off to the mountains in the east. The sky was beginning to lighten, the mists surrounding the summit were beginning to turn pale gold.

"Let us ask Lindir, he's clever about invitations," Glorfindel said.

"Yes, no doubt we'll need to include him," Erestor said, beginning to draw up a strategic plan in his head. "He'll be the one to see to the details of her stay. Everything will have to be perfect."

"Do we inform Elrond about our plan or no?" he asked.

"It will depend on his mood I believe," Erestor replied. "I feel if we tell him at the wrong moment he may forbid us to act. However, he might be more inclined if he is in a particularly good mood."

"I could pop open a particularly good vintage from Evendim I have been saving, that may help," Glorfindel offered.

"That may be a definite possibility," Erestor said. "Perhaps after a day spent by the riverside, he is always in a good mood after he's been fishing."

"Wonderful!" Glorfindel smiled. "With any luck we will be toasting Elrond's engagement by this time next year!"

"We'll need an incredible amount of luck in order to accomplish that," Erestor stated.

"Since we're on the subject of Lord Elrond, do not let me forget to let him out of the wine cellar," Glorfindel said with a wary grin.

"Why would I need to remind you to let him out of the cellar?" Erestor's brow rose high on his forehead. "What did you do?"

"I merely locked him in there after he tried to get me to tell him where I took Ereiniel," Glorfindel said with a dismissive wave of his hand. "I needed to make sure that he didn't follow us. Could you imagine if he saw us in the same situation you did that night behind the waterfall? No doubt he would chuck me off the highest cliff in the valley."

Erestor's eye twitched.

A lengthy silence fell between them.

Glorfindel started fidgeting when he felt the air starting to electrify.

"Are, uh?" Glorfindel cleared his throat. "Is everything alri―?"

Erestor raised his hand for silence. He took a steadying breath.

"I'm not helping you out of it," he said with alarming calm. "I am not going to speak one word on your behalf. Whatever punishment Elrond has in store for you, you are going to have to face it alone."

"But―" Glorfindel stopped short due to the thunderous stare he received from Erestor. He fell quiet and shifted anxiously while the dark Elf sighed.

"This is why I hate getting stuck with you."

Glorfindel knew it was in his best interest not to say anything else.

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you for all your lovely reviews so far! Please continue to let me know what you think!


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N:** Thank you to all my lovely reviewers! I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Your feedback keeps me motivated!

* * *

**Chapter 18**

Ashuruk needed to get away from Pushdug **fast**. He didn't know how much longer he could keep from going berserk and go on a killing spree. And problem was, Ashuruk was the only thing around.

He kept looking over his shoulder at Pushdug, whose eyes kept darting around and ears twitched at every sound. Once or twice Ashuruk looked behind him to see Pushdug swatting at a low flying bird with his scimitar. It was only a matter of time.

Ashuruk quickened his pace, now thinking he should have gone off with one of the other orc groups. They couldn't all have gotten killed, could they? They hadn't caught sight of any Elves in a while, which was good because that meant they were likely getting away. But, it also meant if no Elves were around then Pushdug would have no one else to go after.

His carefully thought out plan was falling apart.

"_Un-burz, un-burz_," Pushdug muttered, his wide eyes nearly spinning his head as he surveyed the sky.

"Yeah, I know it's getting light," Ashuruk said.

Pushdug hadn't been able to speak in complete sentences for a while now. Everything that came out of his mouth was a garble of common, different orc dialects, and a bit of troll that Ashuruk couldn't comprehend. He resorted to responding with his own observations, thinking that was what Pushdug was commenting on. Who knew though?

"It looks greener too," he said, sniffing the air. "Air's wet too, wonder if there's water nearby."

For a moment Ashuruk's heart stopped in his chest. There were numerous waterfalls and pools that surrounded Rivendell, and for a moment he feared they had somehow made their way back towards the Elven stronghold. Yet, as the thought about it, he faintly recalled some talk about a river that no one could cross during the siege.

Ashuruk couldn't recall where he was or what outfit he'd been assigned to, but did hear talk about whole companies of orcs washed away when they tried to cross the river or follow the banks into the valley. Their losses became so great that any attempt to use the river as a means into Rivendell was abandoned. The magic protecting it was so cleverly crafted and reinforced that not even the Dark One could breech it. That was just a rumor of course, but one that got certain grunts executed if it was heard talked about. Which meant it was likely true. Regardless, Ashuruk wondered if they were near that river. More importantly, was the magic that protected it still in place? He didn't want to have come this far to drown in its waters.

"I don't know if we should go this way," Ashuruk said, though he knew Pushdug likely could not comprehend what he was saying. "I think we need to turn around."

Ashuruk took a few steps before he turned, seeing Pushdug standing behind him, eerily still. His pupils were wide and fixed upon him, eyeing him like a beast observing his prey. Ashuruk gulped.

"Don't suppose there ain't nothing left of you in there, is there?" he said, slowly taking a few steps back.

Pushdug remained still, his breathing so shallow that Ashuruk didn't think he was breathing at all. For a moment Ashuruk was afraid to move, afraid to even breathe or blink. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead as Pushdug continued to stare at him with a blank expression.

Slowly, carefully, Ashuruk slid one foot back then another. Pushdug didn't move, didn't even seem to notice his movement. He took one more, but one of the pots made a clanking noise and drew Pushdug out of his trance.

The smaller orc lunged and swung his scimitar as Ashuruk stumbled back and turned to flee. His weapon grazed the pack on Ashuruk's back, making Pushdug wail in disappointment. Ashuruk stumbled from the force of the blow but caught himself. He ran as fast as he could through the forest, legs pumping and heart racing, weaving in and out of the trees to hopefully slow Pushdug down.

Pushdug followed him through the forest, swinging his weapon, no longer caring if an Elf Lord heard him. In fact, he wanted and Elf Lord to hear him. Anything could come running for him and he wouldn't care. All he wanted was something to stick his knife in. He wanted to feel it sink though skin and all the way to the bone. He wanted to hear it squeal in agony.

As he chased Ashuruk through the forest all other thoughts were overtaken by the desire to kill. He could hear his own blood rushing in his ears and his heart pound in his chest. Adrenaline rushed through his veins and every sense honed in on Ashuruk.

He swung around tree trunks and smashed through the vinery that Ashuruk sought to put between them, wailing and swinging his scimitar in hopes of slicing him. He was scratched dozens of times by thorny branches and razor sharp leaves, but he never once felt the sharp pains when his skin was torn open.

Finally, Ashuruk stumbled from weariness, having run as fast as he could for nearly two miles over rugged terrain. Pushdug pounced and latched onto his back, stabbing at him with his weapon. Ashuruk screamed and tried to knock him off, whether by grabbing at him or knocking him against the trees.

Pushdug held fast and stabbed at him with his weapon, shrieking gleefully at Ashuruk's wails. He didn't know how many times he stabbed him before Ashuruk sank to his knees and fell face first into the ground. Pushdug continued to stab at him, laughing maniacally as he watched black blood spurt from his body.

He never thought he would have **_ever_** feel this good in his life.

"Dear Ilúvatar, what_ is_ that?" A melodic voice said, and Pushdug slowly looked up to find two Elves standing before him.

He had never seen an Elf up close before, well live ones that is. He'd seen a couple of dead ones before, but even then he never ventured close to them. Even when they were dead they had a sense about them that made Pushdug shudder. Though he was inclined to think it was because they were far more powerful than he imagined, he also thought their ethereal beauty and clean smell had something to do with his desire to steer clear of them. Strange though, he was no longer afraid of them. He only felt…the need to stab them.

"Ha! I told you they would come this way!" the other said, drawing a silver and gold inlaid sword from his waist. "We'll finish talking about Lord Elrond's nuptials momentarily."

Pushdug grinned, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth, and wondered if Elves were as much fun to kill as orcs. Pushdug laughed again and rose to his feet. He'd find out in just a few minutes.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

"_Of course_ it will have to take place in Imladris," Erestor said as he glared at Glorfindel. They had done nothing but argue about their plans for Elrond's engagement and wedding since they got there. Some points were more inane than others. "You can't expect a ruling Lord to have his wedding anywhere but his own realm."

"I think you are negating Lord Celeborn's capabilities," Glorfindel retorted. "If he is anything remotely like the High King he will do all he can to delay the nuptials. He could easily make the location a condition that Elrond will no doubt abide by. We could find ourselves hauling banquet tables up to Caradhras or hanging garlands in Dwarrowdelf."

"Not if they are already here," Erestor said, furiously pointing at the ground. "If Lord Elrond asks for Celebrían's hand and she accepts, there is nothing Lord Celeborn can do if they are wed shortly after that."

"So what you're saying is that when we get Lady Celebrían here and Elrond asks her to marry him, we have the wedding immediately afterward?" he asked with a raised brow. Erestor nodded.

"Precisely! Then nothing can be done, no one can interject, and Lord Celeborn will have to abide by his daughter's decision," Erestor said with a half grin on his face. "Of course he will no doubt be furious for a couple of hundred years, but once his grandchildren are born I am confident that all will be forgiven and forgotten."

"So the plan is to get Lady Celebrían here, sing Elrond's praises for a few weeks, and then when he proposes we have the wedding," Glorfindel said with a raised brow.

"Four weeks should be sufficient time for her to fall in love with Elrond," Erestor said. "Of course we shall have to prepare a wedding on top of everything else, but I am confident that you, Lindir, and I can manage."

"Of course we can, and I've already planned and executed several weddings myself," Glorfindel said with no small measure of pride.

"You can't equate your play weddings as experience," Erestor said, recalling the Vanya's days as a playwright and theater director in Gondolin.

"I helped _both_ Ecthelion and Idril with their weddings," he retorted. "They wanted everyone to have a good time and I was the only fun person they knew."

"You were certainly an out of place character weren't you?" Erestor responded, unfazed by Glorfindel's revelation. It was not hard to picture him helping to pick out cutlery, flowers, or a wedding dress.

"Turgon was a boring person who kept boring friends," Glorfindel admitted, recalling how the King, Ecthelion, Galdor, Salgant, and Rog would prefer to sit for hours on end and discuss all manner of subjects. Glorfindel could never sit still that long. "Had I not been his brother-in-law I would have been counted amongst Fingon's retainers. They knew how to have a good time."

"Getting back to Elrond's wedding," Erestor drawled, not wanting to hear Glorfindel digress any longer.

"Yes! Late spring or early summer would be best," Glorfindel said. "The gardens will be in full bloom, there will be less chance of rain, and there's a lovely grove close by the Bruinen where we can have the ceremony. All we need is a couple of lanterns and a few boughs of flowers."

"Why do I get the distinct impression you've already been planning this for a while," Erestor replied, sighing.

"Only since I locked him in the cellar earlier in the evening," Glorfindel replied. "But I'm patrol in the valley often, I know many places that would be perfect for a celebration."

A gargled shriek snapped their attention away from their conversation and to the forest ahead of them. They listened as the sound of snapping and whipping branches drew closer, along with inhuman wailing.

Erestor drew the sword from his back as a large clanking figure burst through the foliage and started slamming itself against the nearby trees. Its pudgy arms clawed at its back before it fell to its knees, and that's when they saw there was another much smaller figure attached to the first.

"Dear Ilúvatar, what _is _that?" Erestor said as the first orc collapsed. The smaller one was laughing manically as it continuously stabbed the other orc's back and neck.

The little orc looked up at them when it heard Erestor's voice. Its pupils were dilated and foaming drool dripped from the corner of its mouth. It also couldn't stop giggling. Though it would have been waist high had it stood fully erect, Erestor knew the tiny orc was more dangerous than it looked.

"Ha! I told you they would come this way!" Glorfindel exclaimed as he drew his sword. "We'll finish talking about Lord Elrond's nuptials momentarily."

The orc cocked its head to the side before suddenly springing at them. Erestor side-stepped the orc's swipe while Glorfindel stepped forward to parry the blow.

"Watch it!" Erestor cried as the orc sliced at Glorfindel's legs when its first attack was deflected.

The Vanya winced and took a few steps back when blood began to seep from the cut to his upper right leg. The little orc jumped back and scurried around on the ground before them, it's high pitched squeals getting louder.

"This is not how I wanted to end my night," Glorfindel groaned as shifted to a defensive position. The wound wasn't a serious one, but it stung. "I wanted to go swimming, not deal with an orc overcome by bloodlust."

Erestor couldn't help but roll his eyes as he slid his outer robe off his shoulders.

"It's small but quick," he said. "How do you want to handle it?"

"We'll need to either corral it, or cripple it first," Glorfindel replied. Erestor withdrew one of the throwing knives from the belt across his chest.

"I can handle that, just don't get yourself too cut up," he said before they both launched themselves at the orc.

Pushdug yelped as both Elves flew at him with their razor sharp weapons flashing. Acting on pure instinct, he dropped and rolled forward as the Elves skidded past him, their swords slicing the air above him. A silver knife stabbed the ground where he had been standing.

"Slippery little fiend!" Erestor cried when the orc rolled away between them. It spun round to face them, grinning madly.

"Keep engaging it, it's less likely to run off if we fight it," Glorfindel said. "Try to get the back of its knee or heel."

"I know that," Erestor said through gritted teeth as he pulled another knife from his belt. "It won't stay still long enough for me to get a good shot."

"Then stand back and keep your eyes peeled."

Pushdug was overcome with glee as he darted back and forth on the ground. He couldn't keep still and he wanted to cut the Elves more. But should he go after the pretty one with the flowers in his hair again? Or should he attack the dark one? Perhaps he should stab it in the eyes. He didn't like the way the dark one was glaring at him.

Yet before Pushdug could attack again the golden Elf started to glow. He winced as the light began to hurt his eyes, which was nearly as bright as the sun. Through his haze Pushdug realized that it was an Elf Lord. That was the one thing that he wanted to avoid all night yet somehow managed to run into. If he had been sober he might have been afraid, but he only felt…hatred and a rage he could not put into words.

The Elf Lord said something, which Pushdug surmised was a curse because its melodic voice grated his ears. Pushdug decided he wanted to stab this one in the throat.

"Do you think peonies and freesia would make lovely centerpieces for the wedding banquet?"

* * *

**A/N: **Thank you all so much for your lovely reviews, I greatly appreciate it! Please continue to tell me what you think of it!


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